


de novo

by hamnet



Series: overthrowing fate [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Spoilers, fateswap!AU, oracle!Prompto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 59,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9164107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamnet/pseuds/hamnet
Summary: You are not afraid."No," Prompto agrees, and he ignores the shaking of his knees. "I stand here to ask for your power. Fear won't persuade you. Will you grant the King your power?"--In which Prompto is the Oracle, and while he disagrees with the future he's seen, he fights to see another day.





	1. titan

**Author's Note:**

> [they](https://chocobaes.tumblr.com/) started this mess and i'm just dumping my own shit on their mess and i love it. it's a beautiful mess. prompto looks so good in white. noctis surrounded by girls who can kick ass is also 10/10. i'm so in love. GO CHECK THEIR ART FOR THIS AU!!!!!!
> 
> also, a disclaimer: i am still stuck at chapter 10 of the game, and honestly, i planned to only write once i'm done with the game, the awful purple prose i wrote excluded, but the fandom (and promptis) has a whole lot of good shit (GOOD SHIT) that makes me pick up my pen (or phone, actually) and write. SO what i'm saying is: i'm still not 100% with the way i write the characters, so they may be a bit ooc or weird or idfk. please bear with me lmao
> 
>  ~~originally this was meant to be a oneshot which events won't be in a chronological order. i dumped the oneshot idea long ago but maintained the non-chronological events idea, so, basically, the chapters will be all over the place lol~~ jk it's chronological.
> 
> also, de novo = anew in latin. may not be the most accurate english to latin, bc latin is so complicated, but i tried my best.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> man, it's hot.

The sun is beating down harshly, the winds hot and unforgiving. Even with the temperature steadily rising the closer Prompto gets to the Disc of Cauthess, he continues on. He's not exactly happy with it; in fact, all he wants to do is to lie down on the gravel and not move, ever.

He would've done that if the road isn't as hot as the sun at the moment.

"I think a break is in order," Cor says, suddenly by Prompto’s side as if he’d been there all this time. He hadn’t. Ever since Prompto met up with him outside of Insomnia, Cor just comes and goes whenever he pleases and only accompanies Prompto when he feels like it. It's kind of a dick move, but that's Cor for you. At least Prompto knows Cor will not ditch him by the time they reach the meteor. Going to see Titan alone is going to kill him with nervousness. "I know you're in a hurry, but you've been travelling on foot since Insomnia. Ever thought of catching a break?"

Prompto sighs. "I catch breaks, Cor," he mutters. "But I doubt you'd know since you're not here a lot."

Cor snorts. "Nonsense. I always know what you're doing, even if you think I don't."

"Sounds creepy."

"It's my job. How do you think I know when you need the trident?"

O- _kay_ , Prompto isn't going to argue with that. Instead, he stops walking to gauge how far he still has to go. The answer: _very far_. He's on the side of a long, winding road with nothing to see but the bland, brown landscape and the Disc itself. The Disc of Cauthess may look closer now since Prompto headed out of Lestallum, but it's still very much far from where he is standing. Perhaps the rising temperature he's feeling is the result of him walking under the sun for too long. He sighs again. If only he could rent chocobos...

"Alright," Prompto says, wiping sweat just above his brow. "I need a break."

"Then let's head to the nearest outpost."

The nearest outpost is another hour worth of walking, _godsdammit_. When they arrived at Coernix Station, Prompto has to fight the urge to throw himself to the ground and kiss it. The trees and shade are great things to see, but he lugs himself to the store instead, buys a drink, and chugs it down.

"Hey, Cor, you want something to drink?" Prompto asks, looking behind him only to find that Cor is gone again, and he shakes his head before buying himself another drink. He wanders outside, finds the small eating place the outpost has to offer, and plops in the seat farthest from the sun's heat before ordering a cheap meal.

No one has yet to recognise him or even give him a second glance, and Prompto is glad for that. It's not as if he's expecting them to, anyway. Prompto right now isn't the handsome, clean Oracle everyone has seen on T.V. during his ascension: he's speckled with dirt, and his elegant princely clothes that he wore when he visited Insomnia were discarded in favour of a more comfortable yet fancy wardrobe, given by Cor. His hair is a mess, and his face is red from all the walking he's done, which makes his freckles stand out more than normal. He has nothing with him save for a few gil he earned from doing easy hunter quests. He doesn't have the trident; Cor carries it for safekeeping and only lets Prompto have it when he has to fight.

So, yeah, Prompto doesn't really look like the Oracle everyone knows and loves right now. It sort of helps as well that people claim he's dead. It means that Prompto can move around more freely without the threat of being discovered.

But that false news isn't exactly that great, because it means that Noctis thinks he's dead, too. He could send Umbra to tell Noctis he's still alive and kicking, but it's not exactly wise to do it when he's still on the road. He needs all the help he could get while he's still travelling alone like this to keep himself safe. He's not a great fighter, and he relies on his magic more than he relies on his actual combat prowess---that drains a lot from him, and not everything he has to defend himself from are daemons. It's a lose-lose situation.

Prompto heaves his biggest sigh yet, and he sits straighter in his chair before practically inhaling his meal. It's nice to disregard his etiquette training once in a while. Once he's done, he pays for his meal, stands up, and leaves the outpost to continue his journey.

"Leaving so soon?" Cor says, walking up beside Prompto like he’s wont to do. Prompto shrugs.

"We have to get to Titan before the Empire does," he says. "They already built the Lestallum blockade, probably to slow down Noct. Only a matter of time before they surround the Archaean. We can't have that." Prompto looks at the thick cloud of smoke emerging from the Disc, determination settling in him as he looks on. "Noct needs his help, and to get it I have to see him first."

Cor breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. "I see. No rest for the weary."

"Eh." Prompto smiles cheekily at him. "I had a full meal. I got me some rest."

Cor merely hums in agreement, nodding his head, and a blink later, he's gone. In his place is Umbra instead, the bright yellow album sticking out of his dark fur. Prompto has seen Noct's message already, but he still hasn't made a response yet. He has no camera to use and no time to sit down and write.

"So it's just you and me, huh, buddy?"

Umbra barks, and Prompto smiles. Weary as it looks, it's still a genuine smile.

"Let's go, Umbra."

\--

Prompto is right about the Empire surrounding the Archaean, much to his disappointment.

He almost leaps in joy when he ses that he's nearing the foot of the meteor, seeing the black smoke much closer and feeling the sudden spike of the heat, then he immediately sees the rows of Imperial soldiers and the numerous Magitek engines. Prompto is too late.

Well, of course he would be: they had flying ships; Prompto broke his shoe's heel this morning.

"I really want to lie down right now," Prompto grumbles as he takes cover behind one of the giant boulders on a cliff overlooking the Imperial army, Umbra following behind him. Upon better inspection, Prompto realises those MTs aren't exactly meant for fighting. They're for building the blockade that will surround Titan, though they still seem to be perfectly capable of breaking necks if it comes down to it. They're building the skeletal framework of the enormous metallic gate that marks the entrance to Cauthess. Prompto can break the gate down if he wants to with a blast of his magic and slow down their work, but that's also risking getting caught. He can't have that.

"I just can't catch a break," Prompto mutters to himself. "Man, what I'd give for a bath right now."

"Going to need the trident?"

Prompto jumps, and then he turns behind him to frown at Cor, who's holding the trident against his shoulder like it's a baseball bat instead of an ancient relic. Then again, Prompto can't exactly complain about it, either; he used the trident to stab some daemons the other night just to earn gil---basically, the fruits of desperation.

Prompto looks back at the working MTs, still frowning. "Not sure yet. I'm thinking they're definitely going to whoop my butt if I try to destroy their precious gate now."

Umbra barks.

Prompto likes to think Umbra agrees with him. Cor seems to think the same thing, too. "So what's your plan, Lord Prompto? You can't exactly sneak in there undetected. Find another path?"

"Too time consuming," Prompto reasons. "And I'm too lazy. I'm taking what they're giving me instead."

Cor rolls his eyes, and then he shrugs. "Suit yourself, Highness." He glances at the Imperial army down below. "I'll see you when it's time."

Prompto doesn't have to look behind him to know that Cor is gone again, opting to narrow his eyes at the construction site and looking for a possible way in. The short answer: there's no way in. The long answer: while there are no barricades around just yet, the number of MTs and soldiers crowding the area makes it impossible to sneak through. He shakes his head.

"Maybe I should just look for another way in, then," he tells himself with a sigh.

Just as he's about to stand up, Umbra bites a loose fabric on his garment to keep him down. Prompto blinks at Umbra, and the dog looks back at him, his tail waving back and forth as if expecting treats.

"What is it, bud?" Prompto says, then stops, looks at the Imperials below and back at Umbra, whose tail is still waving excitedly behind him. Prompto wrinkles his nose in thought, and then, "wanna help me, Umbra?" The dog barks again, this time standing up, and Prompto smirks. "Nice. C'mon."

The two approach the site slowly and stealthily, taking cover behind the numerous boulders scattered around the area. Once they're close enough, Prompto spares a glance at the army. Too many to count, as if they're expecting someone to come and ruin their day. They made the Lestallum blockade already, though, so it couldn't have been Noct they’re wary of. Were they expecting him...?

Well, if that's the case, Prompto may be a _little_ smug about it. He knows jack shit about fighting; wielding his power as the Oracle is the next best thing he could do. It feels nice to feel threatening when all he can do is wave his trident around and hope for the best. He looks at Umbra.

Umbra isn't just any other dog; he's a messenger, just like Cor, and has a unique ability like any messengers. For Umbra, it's manipulating time, going to the past and stuff but nothing that can distort the future. No one can change the future that's been set in stone, at least that's what they tell Prompto. He doesn't believe it.

But the past and the future don't matter right now; what matters is the shit ton of Imperials that Prompto has to get past. "Alright, buddy," he says, "how long can you stop time for me?" When Umbra just stares at him, Prompto decides it's probably not the best question to ask a dog. He tries again. "So can you stop time long enough for me to cross that entire field of Imperials and get to the other side?"

It's a better question that Umbra can answer, it seems, because Umbra barks happily, and that catches the attention of the nearest Imperial. Oh, shit.

"Who goes there?" says the Imperial soldier, turning to where Prompto is hiding, and okay, better than an MT, who'll definitely go and ram the boulder Prompto is hiding behind without question. But still, _shit_.

"Can you do it now?" Prompto asks Umbra as he nervously watches the approaching Imperial, and looking at the dog again, he finds that Umbra has laid down on the ground, all relaxed and unbothered. _"Umbra!"_

The soldier points his gun at the boulder. Prompto is already sweating, has been sweating, actually, but only now is he actually aware of it. Hyper aware of it. The soldier shouts, calling for back up. "We have an...intru...der...he..."

Suddenly, there's silence, the sounds of metal hitting metal and drilling and pounding abruptly stopping at once, and Prompto blinks. He peeks at the soldier to find that he's completely stopped moving, just standing there, pointing his gun at Prompto. The rest of the site has stopped moving, too. The clouds aimlessly wandering above are still, simply hovering above everything.

Oh. Umbra stopped time.

Prompto grins at the dog, who's staring at him as if saying _praise me_. Umbra is still lying on the ground, and Prompto pats his head.

"Umbra, you're the _best_."

Umbra doesn't reply. He lays his head on the ground instead, and Prompto decides it's time to go. By the looks of it, Umbra can't come with him.

"I'm off," he tells his dog. "Don't get caught, okay?"

Prompto finally leaves his hiding place, staring at the landscape once more. He heads straight towards the entrance and past the framework of the gate, ignoring everyone else that’s been frozen in time, and he gives it another look once he's past it. There's a moment of hesitation, but, eventually, Prompto raises his hands, his eyebrows furrowed, and though time is stopped, wind blows around him. He feels warmth throughout his body and channels it towards his hands then fingertips, then a second later, a beam of golden light shoots out of his hands, hitting the top of the framework and throwing Prompto backwards.

He lands on his back, wheezes at the impact, and he turns to his side with a groan. He's so awful at controlling his magic without the trident. Nevertheless, that did the job, and Prompto scrambles to stand up and head in to find Titan.

He's already deep inside the Disc of Cauthess when he notices the embers around him glow and the clouds roll, and in the distance, he hears something collapsing, and he grins to himself.

\--

By the time Prompto wanders into the heart of the Disc, it's almost sundown. This is bad, this is dangerous, and this is _awful_.

Not to mention the heat is exhausting. At least he's wearing white. It lessens the heat that clings to him, but it doesn't change the fact that he's grosser than he did a few hours ago, and his clothes practically cling to his skin now, wet with sweat.

"Hey, Cor," Prompto calls out, hoping that his supposed caretaker is listening. He puts a hand against the rocky wall to keep himself steady, making sure to avoid the nearby embers. He coughs. "Once we're done talking to Titan, can you carry me back? I don't think I can lug my ass out after this."

Prompto pauses, waiting for an answer, and when none came, he sighs and carries on.

A few more minutes of hauling ass, and he reaches a cliff overlooking the meteor itself, and to his surprise, he finds a royal tomb at the end of the cliff. The King's statue that holds the royal arm is halfway through the ground, but the royal arm itself remains intact. Prompto stares at it for a moment, thinking of a way to dig it out, but before he could figure out anything, Cor speaks behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Forget it," Cor says, and he turns to look at Cor. He's standing a few feet from Prompto, holding the trident in one hand. "That’s not why you’re here. It's almost nightfall. Believe me or not, daemons crawl around here, too, despite the Archaean's presence." Cor steps forward and extends the trident towards him. "Go. Wake the Archaean, Oracle. It's what you've come to do."

Prompto stares at the trident for a moment, and he nods, taking the trident from Cor and smiling wryly at him. "You think Titan will mind that the one who woke him is a dirty and smelly guy?"

Cor smirks. "We'll see."

Prompto finally turns to face the meteor, focused and determined. His grip on the trident tightens. This would be his first time to do a ritual this scale, but he'll pull through, just as he pulled through with the other smaller rituals he had done before. He closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale. Okay. He can do this. Just clear his mind, right? And concentrate. And clear his throat. And not freak out.

"Prompto," Cor says, and Prompto doesn't miss how he dropped the title. "You're freaking out."

"No," Prompto says, not looking at Cor and keeping his eyes closed. "Just...give me time."

Cor doesn't say anything and, like Prompto requested, gives him the time and space he needs. He hears nothing but silence, the wind's soft whispers and the crackle of the flames surrounding him the only things filling in the silence. He feels nothing but the heat surrounding him, from under his feet, and caressing his cheek as the wind blows.

Man, it's hot.

Still, it's no reason to flop this. He opens his eyes, parts his lips, and begins to sing.

He's never a good singer, really. His singing is passable, at the very least. It's one of the things he had to learn to do as the Oracle. His voice wakes them, he'd been told once. It holds power, blah, blah, blah. It's an Oracle thing, Prompto knows that, and he has a future to safeguard. He's not a big fan of the future he knows of, but if it means getting to wake up the next day, he'll do it---for the time being.

Prompto sings of the past, of the creation of the world and the beauty it once held, of the present, of the wars that torn the land and the threat of the night, and of the future, muddled with uncertainty. He sings to wake the god surrounded by flames, lulled to sleep by the burden he bore for Eos, and when the winds carry his voice into the open void where the meteor rests, the earth quakes, and the flames licking at the bottom of the cliff flare. Though Titan does not show himself, he makes his presence known, his garbled voice echoing throughout Cauthess. Prompto stands firmly, blue eyes reflecting the red flames of the meteor. Though Prompto's appearance does not betray the title he holds, Titan knows, and he acknowledges.

_The Oracle wakes me. What for, mortal?_

"Titan," Prompto says, his voice loud and clear. It echoes. "I've come for a favour. The Stone has been taken, and I request you forge a covenant with the King to take it back."

The earth shakes once more, accompanied with the Archaean's voice, as if laughing, and a wall of lava flies up from below to rain on Prompto. Despite the intense heat, Prompto neither moves nor flinches, and none of the sickly red liquid touches him. The shaking stops.

_You are not afraid._

"No," Prompto agrees, and he ignores the shaking of his knees. "I stand here to ask for your power. Fear won't persuade you." He pauses, searching the meteor and even the bottom of it. Nothing but embers and flames. He can't find Titan. He looks up at the meteor again. "Will you grant the King your power?"

Titan does not answer immediately. Prompto stands there for a few minutes while the sun slowly sets behind the meteor. It's a cause of concern, but Prompto can't be sidetracked now. He has to win Titan's favour and to make sure he agrees to help Noct.

_The King. Who is he?_

"Noctis Lucis Caelum," Prompto immediately answers. "The new King of Lucis and the Chosen. He shall come here to prove his worth."

_Prove his worth, he shall. He fails me, and he dies by my hand._

Prompto takes a second to reply. "Very well," he manages, almost choking on his own words, but he says it.

_Let the covenant be done._

He didn’t think it would be _that_ easy. The earth shakes once more, but Prompto knows it's not meant to intimidate, as flames around the meteor slowly die down into the more solemn kind, as it was before Prompto woke Titan. His mouth presses into a thin line, his mind running, and in a fit of recklessness and courage, he calls out to Titan once again.

"Wait!"

The ground stops, the flames flaring once again, and Prompto knows the Archaean is listening. Well, here goes nothing. Prompto is an idiot. "I have a personal request. Once he's come here..." He swallows. "Tell him I was here. I'm not dead. I'm okay. Maybe a little dirty, but I'm okay."

Titan doesn't say anything, and Prompto watches as the flames around the meteor die down into sizzling embers. When he tears his eyes from the meteor and towards the sky, he sees stars speckled across the horizon, twinkling, being beautiful. Prompto inhales, and the smell of smoke stings his nose.

"Making an Astral your personal messenger, I see," Cor says, stepping beside him, and he looks down and grins at Cor.

"Hell yeah. Though I don't know if he'll do it, but at least I tried."

Cor snorts, smirking, and he heartily claps Prompto's back. "You've done good, albeit sending the King to his death. Not bad."

"Nah," he replies, turning around and heading back to where he'd come from. He uses the trident to keep himself from toppling down and passing out right there. Prompto can no longer trust his legs to keep him up. He's _exhausted_. "Noct will be fine. I know he'll be." When Cor doesn't say anything, Prompto thought he'd gone again already, but to his surprise, he finds Cor walking alongside him. "You're not leaving?"

"Can't," Cor replies. "Unless I want to leave you as daemon food."

Prompto laughs as they continue making their way out. "Thanks."

He doesn't remember passing out, but when he wakes, he realises he's in the caravan in Coernix Station, nicely tucked in. He's no longer in the clothes he was in before, surprisingly left only in his boxers, and he finds them on a hanger, clean and well-kept, like it hasn't been worn just yet. Prompto grins as he gets off the bed and takes his clothes. He's pretty sure he is not to mention this to anyone ever, or Cor will kill him.

Nevertheless, he's clean and well rested. Only a day has passed since his meeting with Titan. Now, as Prompto prepares to set out once again, he thinks he's going to get struck by lightning and get really wet under the rain this time. Doesn't matter, though. He has to.

It's time to find Ramuh.


	2. meeting/separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tenebrae is a pretty land to rule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys. lol. what the fuck. i did NOT expect such a huge hits and kudos count on just the FIRST FLIPPING CHAPTER THE FUCK?
> 
> what can i say? you guys...are the best. :')
> 
> ANYWAY, i finally finished the game and i'm actually super salty ayyyy. the ending is beautiful but, like, fuck. okay this section is not for ranting but for SAYING that i'm definitely going to write a sequel after this one that goes all the way until the ending. i didn't really plan for a sequel, because i just wanted to focus only on oracle!prompto until his reunion with noct, but my salt has fueled me. yay.
> 
> once again, [they](http://chocobaes.tumblr.com) started this mess, and i just dumped my own shit on their mess. it's a beautiful mess. check their art for this au! they're truly wonderful.
> 
> also, i love ravus.
> 
> also, this au is lowkey 'prompto is friends with everyone.'

"This is a soup spoon. As the name suggests, it’s meant for consuming soup. You see how it’s rounder and deeper compared to the other spoons? It’s meant that way so it can hold liquid much easier."

Prompto just absently nods at his tutor as she rambles on and on about the spoon she’s holding. It’s easy to understand, but he can’t help but think they’re unnecessary. Why did the size and shape of the spoons matter? In the end they serve the same purpose: putting food to his mouth. Why complicate eating so much? It's supposed to be fun! And boy, does Prompto like fun.

"Lord Prompto, are you listening?" his tutor asks, looking at him with just tiniest bit of exasperation on her features, and Prompto nods again. "Okay," she says, and she taps the spoon she's been waving at his face against the thick, mahogany table. The table is filled with stacked books, blocking his view of the window. "What's the purpose of this spoon, then?"

Prompto stares at the spoon for a second, then he looks at her. "Putting food to my mouth."

His tutor sighs.

"You're lucky you're such an adorable child," she mutters under her breath, shaking her head, and she tries for a patient smile at him. "Well, I suppose you're technically right, but---"

The chime of the grandfather's clock at one corner of the room is exactly what Prompto has been patiently waiting for since he sat in his chair, and he grins excitedly at his tutor. "Classes are over!"

She gapes at him, and it's a mistake on her part, because Prompto definitely takes it as a "yes, it is; you may go." He practically jumps off his very big chair, losing his balance and landing on his hands and knees, and he scrambles to leave the chokingly boring study room to make a beeline for his bedroom, ignoring his tutor's protests. Classes are boring; his tutor is boring. What's _not_ boring, however---

Prompto bursts into his room, and Pryna and Umbra jump at his sudden appearance. They're laying comfortable in his bed, and Prompto skips to his nightstand to open the drawer and snatches the small, digital camera inside it. He turns it on, grinning as the screen lights up, and he puts the camera up against his face and looks at his dogs through its lens.

"It's picture time!"

 _Kachak_. Prompto takes a photo of his confused dogs, giggling as he looks at the preview on the camera's screen. With the flash off, Pryna and Umbra's eyes don't reflect the light anymore, and they don't look as scary as they had first been in his first photo of them. Prompto nods to himself, putting the band hanging from the camera around his wrist, and he looks at his dogs.

"Wanna come with? Let's take pictures in the garden!"

The garden has been the subject of Prompto's photos these past few days, simply because everyone has been so busy lately to accompany him outside the manor. Even Cor, and if Cor is also busy, that means there's no one else left to come with him to take pictures. Prompto isn't one to complain; when he grows up, he's going to be just like them, which is as awful as it sounds. Better get used to it. Besides, the garden is just as pretty as everything else in Tenebrae.

Normally, after his classes with his tutor, he's allowed to leave the manor to roam around Tenebrae for an hour, with a chaperon, of course. However, since he's within the confines of the manor's walls, he's free to stay in the garden for as long as he likes---well, only until dinner anyway, but, still, Prompto has never been outside this long until recently.

He spends the rest of the day in the garden, taking as many photos as he could, sometimes crawling under bushes and ignoring the mud just to take that perfect shot. You know, photographer things. No one understands that. A small snail keeps Prompto occupied for a few minutes, silently cheering it on and snapping a few photos as it reaches is destination (where it's going, Prompto actually doesn't know). Then a small cluster of blue flowers gets his attention next. He knows what they are: with their tall stalks and vivid blue petals, it's impossible to mistake sylleblossoms as another flower. They're lovely, really, and his favourite. He spends his remaining time taking shots of flowers.

By sundown, Prompto is spent. He's lying on the grass in the middle of the garden, his arms raised high, holding the camera above him and reviewing the pictures he's taken. So far, he has a picture of Pryna and Umbra, fifteen pictures of the cluster of sylleblossoms, and around twenty pictures of the small snail. Prompto really likes his snail pictures. Pryna and Umbra lay on his sides, snuggling against him, and they both raise their heads when a figure looms over him.

"You're covered in dirt. Have you been crawling around the garden again?"

Prompto blinks, moving his camera aside and grinning sheepishly at the figure above him.

"You're not going to tell mum, are you, Ravus?"

Ravus smirks at him, and he straightens himself and crosses his arms, pretending to think. "What do I get from not telling on you?"

"Um." Prompto frowns. "I have twenty pictures of a snail."

Ravus breathes out a laugh, putting his hands against his hips. "Maybe that's a good deal. Come on, Your Highness. Let's get you cleaned up."

He gets Prompto up and starts dusting dirt off Prompto's once immaculate white clothes. As he does that, Prompto lifts his camera and focuses the lens on top of Ravus' silvery head. "Hey, Ravus."

Ravus lifts his head, and _kachak_.

Prompto grins as he looks at the preview flashing in the camera's screen. "You look goofy in this."

Ravus blinks, and he sighs, shaking his head, but his small smile betrays his amusement. "You should've warned me, Lord Prompto."

Prompto giggles, and he squeals when Ravus lifts him up and drapes him over the shoulder. "Ravus!"

"Can't let you walking around the manor covered in mud," Ravus reasons as he turns around to face the manor. "Everyone worked hard to scrub it clean today, you know." A beat of silence. "Hm, shall I throw onto your balcony instead?"

Prompto gasps, and he squirms in his friend's grasp. "No! No!"

"I was just kidding." Ravus speeds straight to the manor, Prompto's laughter and squeals trailing behind them as Pryna and Umbra follow.

Ravus has been around for as long as Prompto remembers. One can even say he's practically an honorary member of the Argentum household. Though he was far too young five years ago, Prompto can still recall the day he first saw Ravus: covered in dirt, a red stained cloth tightly bound around his left wrist, dried tears staining his hollow cheeks. He had lost his sister, he was saying, and he wanted to go back and look for her. Queen Sylva said no and instead sent a search team to look for his sister while he was being tended to. They never found her.

Ravus had been with them since then, serving the Argentum House and being the older brother Prompto never had.

"Do you miss your sister sometimes?" Prompto suddenly asks as Ravus dries his hair with a towel. Ravus managed to sneak him back into the manor without leaving any evidences of his antics, and they immediately got into the baths to wash the mud off him. Ravus stops drying his hair, blinking at him, and Ravus shrugs.

"Well, sometimes," he admits, and he returns to drying Prompto's hair. "But I don't like getting hung up over the past. I get sad."

"Oh." Prompto looks down. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

Prompto fiddles with his hands as Ravus continues drying his hair. He frowns. "You're...," he starts. "You're like my big brother, you know? I'm glad you're here and you're helping me not get scolded by Cor or mum."

Ravus stares at him for a moment, then he opens his mouth to say something, but a knock on the door cuts him off. Before anyone in the room can react, it opens. Prompto looks up to find Cor walking into the room, and he grins, jumping off the bed to run to him.

"Cor!"

He blinks at Prompto. "Why are you naked?"

"Took him to the baths," Ravus says, standing up and slinging the towel over his shoulder. Cor looks at him. "He was crawling around the garden today."

Cor raises his eyebrows and looks down at Prompto. "You know you're not supposed to do that, Lord Prompto."

Prompto wrinkles his nose, frowning. "No, I didn't know."

Ravus snorts behind Prompto, and Cor makes a face at him. "C'mon, Lord Cor. He's just eight. Give him a break."

Cor shrugs. "As long as he didn't leave any mud around. You know what a pain it is to scrub the floors clean and shiny? Not like I did it." A pause. "Did he leave any mud around?"

"No."

"Alright."

Prompto blinks, looking at them as they talk, and he decides to cut in to ask Cor a question. "Cor, are you going to tell mum?"

"Don't worry," Ravus says, grinning at Prompto. "We'll make sure he won't."

"Is that a threat, boy?"

"Anyway." Ravus wraps the towel around Prompto's waist, ruffling his hair after doing so. He looks up at Cor. "Something to tell the little prince? I don't think you came here just because."

Cor stares at Ravus for a moment. "Of course," he eventually says, and he kneels so that he's Prompto's eye level. The way Cor looks at him right now makes him a little nervous. "I know you've been wondering why no one's free to accompany you outside the manor lately." Prompto nods. "Well, you see, tomorrow, we'll have visitors. That's why everyone's up and about getting ready."

Prompto frowns. "Are they that important?"

"Yeah. A king and his son will be visiting." Cor grins at him, as if the knowledge he's about to impart is strictly just between them. Their darkest secret. "The king's son, the prince, is your age."

Well, it definitely gets a reaction from Prompto. He gasps, eyes wide, and he jumps in excitement. The towel around his waist falls to the ground. "I get a playmate?"

"More than that," Cor says. "I'm sure you two will be close friends."

Prompto screams, clapping, and Cor makes a face at him. "Okay, you are definitely overreacting."

"But!" Prompto says. "Someone my age! Ravus is the closest to my age here, and he's too old!" He hears Ravus mutter something about not being old, but he's too busy being elated to really notice. "What's his name? What does he look like? Does he...I dunno, does he like pictures?" He stops, standing still on top of his bed, and he dramatically gasps. "Has he seen _chocobos_?"

Cor raises an eyebrow at him. "Well, you'll just have to find out tomorrow." He frowns. "Also, you really need to get dressed. It's almost time for dinner."

At this, Ravus perks up, and he puts his hands underneath Prompto's armpits and lifts him up. Prompto screams. "Time to get dressed, kid."

Prompto continues screaming as Ravus carries him to his dressing room, kicking his feet in the air as he does so, and he sees Cor chuckling to himself before standing up and leaving the room.

\--

The next day, Prompto stands beside his mother, fiddling with his collar as the black car they've been expecting drives past the grandiose gates of the manor and into the garden. Ravus stands behind him, his hand on the hilt of his sword and ready to draw anytime something goes wrong. What kind of wrong it is, though, Prompto doesn’t know. Queen Sylva puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking down at him with worry.

"Is something wrong, dear?"

"My collar's itchy."

His mother's brows furrow together, frowning a little. "I'm sorry to hear that, Prompto, but can you hold out for a little longer? I promise we'll have that taken cared of after this."

Prompto nods, and he tries his hardest to keep his hands on his side as the black car parks in front of the staircase leading to the doors of the manor, where he and his mother stand waiting. Prompto knows who they're expecting now, because his mother told him last night during dinner: the king and prince of Lucis, the magical kingdom bearing the Crystal. Prompto has heard of it, and he knows the history Tenebrae shares with Lucis. The King and the Oracle; the Oracle and the King---they keep Tenebrae in such an intimate relationship with Lucis, even after centuries.

At that moment, Prompto realises that he's about to meet _his_ King, the one he's meant to guide and stand by as the future Oracle. He swallows. What would the prince think when he finds out his future Oracle is a boy? There had never been a male Oracle before. Is Prompto even allowed to be the next Oracle? This was never an issue to him before---

Servants rush to open the car doors, and out comes a man whom Prompto is one hundred percent sure is King Regis, with the way he carries himself with confidence befitting a king and the fact that he's, well, kind of older looking with his well-trimmed beard and nice suit. He then steps aside, and one of the servants pushes a wheelchair and---oh.

A boy sits in the wheelchair, gloomy and uncomfortable and looking down at his hands resting on his lap. Dark hair, pale skin, then the boy dares to look up. He's Prince Noctis, Prompto realises and finds he has the darkest set of blue eyes Prompto has ever seen, and when they lock eyes, Prompto grins at him.

Prince Noctis immediately breaks eye contact and looks down again, and Prompto's grin disappears.

\--

"Hi."

Prompto is peeking his head through the small opening of the door leading to the guest room where Noctis is in. Noctis is in bed, the wheelchair parked beside it, and he looks at Prompto. It's quiet, so quiet that Prompto hides half of his face behind the door, feeling shy. This isn't how he thought things would go between them, honestly.

Noctis hangs his head, but he's looking at Prompto from under his fringe. "...Hi," he says, and Prompto immediately lights up and shoves half of his body into the room before stopping.

"Can I come in?"

Noctis raises his head again and slowly nods, and Prompto immediately heads inside and closes the door behind him. He looks at Noctis again, and there's another moment of silence.

"Hi," Prompto says again. "…Prince Noctis."

Noctis blinks at him, as if he doesn't know what to do, but, eventually, he decides to do the same thing Prompto did. "Hi, Prince Prompto."

Prompto gasps. "You know my name!"

Somehow, this makes Noctis smile. It's a small smile, almost unnoticeable, but it doesn't slip Prompto's attention. "I…thought it would be rude not to know the name of Tenebrae's prince."

"Oh! I see." Prompto crosses his arms. "But, like, Lucis is such a big deal, you know? It's a country that lasted for centuries! I doubt no one doesn't know your name. There's not much land for us to rule here."

Noctis tilts his head to the side. "I doubt no one doesn't know your name, too. Tenebrae is popular outside. It's a pretty land to rule."

Prompto stops at that, and he grins at Noctis. "Yeah! Tenebrae is pretty. I should show you outside sometime."

Noctis makes a face, though, and he looks down again. "...I can't do that."

"Oh, um." _Quick, think!_ "No, don't worry!" Prompto immediately says. "I got just the thing!"

He fishes his digital camera out of his pocket and turns it on. The screen lights up, and he skips towards Noctis' bed to show the camera to Noctis, complete with a _ta-da!_

Noctis stares at the camera. "You have a camera," he points out.

"I sure do!" Prompto sits down on the bed beside Noctis, fiddling with his camera to view the gallery. "You know, I always take pictures of places around Tenebrae whenever I can. I didn't think I'd get to show it to anyone else, because, um, it's not really a prince thing, I guess? My mum doesn't mind, but she's not exactly that interested, being busy and all that because she's queen, and..."

Prompto rambles on, talking about places in Tenebrae he's been to and taken pictures of, showing the pictures he took as he talks. This is what he totally means when he said he'll show Noctis around, he says at one point, and once Noctis is well enough, Prompto himself will wheel him around Tenebrae. It’s a promise!

Unbeknownst to him, though, as he continues his mindless ramble, Noctis doesn't listen and doesn't look at the pictures unless he shoves the camera at Noctis, like when he shows Noctis the twenty pictures of the same snail. Instead, Noctis watches him and the way he's so animated and loud and clearly having fun, even though Noctis is a boring companion and all he does is nod and barely say anything.

Noctis allows himself a smile and decides Prompto isn't that bad of a companion.

\--

Days become weeks, and weeks become months. Noctis is steadily recovering, which is good news to Prompto, and he's allowed out of his room now, though he still needs a wheelchair to navigate around. He's lucky he has Prompto, who's more than willing to monopolise Noctis and his wheelchair. As promised, Prompto shows him around, well, not Tenebrae itself, but the manor. The garden is a good start.

"Noctis! Look at this." Prompto drops a bright blue flower on Noctis' lap. He picks it up and studies it. The petals are deep blue, so blue that under certain lighting, it looks violet instead.

"It's a pretty flower." He pauses, and he makes a face as if remembering something. "Oh, you have a picture of it. You showed me before. Sylleblossom, right?"

"You remember!" Prompto grins. "Pretty, isn't it?

Noctis nods, looking at the flower again, and then he beckons Prompto to lean towards him. Prompto does, and once he's close enough, Noctis puts the flower on his hair. He blinks.

"Wha...?"

"I just..." Noctis trails off, looking down. "I don't know. It's like your eyes...?" Noctis chews on his lips. "...Sometimes they're blue, sometimes they're violet. I actually can't tell what colour your eyes really are. They're like...sylleblossoms, I guess."

"Ohhh."

It's quiet for a moment, Noctis still looking down, and Prompto looking down at him. Prompto actually can't tell why his friend will be embarrassed with the comparison.

He tucks a lock of blond hair behind his ear, careful not to accidentally brush the flower off his hair. "Well," he starts, "mum says they're a unique kind of blue. I got it from dad."

Noctis looks up. "Really?"

"Yeah." Prompto rocks on his heels, and he lifts a hand onto his hair to keep the flower in place. "I guess it's pretty rare? I don't know actually. Sometimes it makes me feel I'm probably magical. Changing eyes and stuff, you know?"

"Well..." Noctis smiles a little. "I guess you are. I mean, aren't you going to be the Oracle after your mum?"

At this, Prompto stills, and he makes a face. "Am I? I dunno, actually. I'm a boy."

Noctis blinks at him, and he tilts his head to the side. "Did anyone say the Oracle should only be a girl?"

"I guess not," Prompto says with a shrug. "But the first Oracle was a girl, and it's always been girls since then." He looks down, deciding to fiddle with his camera. "I think that says a lot."

"The first ruler of Lucis was a boy," Noctis says, "but there were rulers of Lucis who were girls, too. It's not a big deal."

Prompto blinks. "Really?"

"Yeah. They're not exactly a secret, too. There's one of the more popular queens. Legends say she wielded the stars." Noctis shrugs. "She's cool."

Prompto sucks in a breath. "Anyone who can wield the stars is cool!"

"I know, right?"

They both laugh, and when it dies down, Noctis is smiling cheekily at him. It's the first time Noctis smiled like that. "Um, anyway, what I was trying to say," Noctis says, "is that I doubt there's a rule that says boys can't be the Oracle, too. Besides..." Noctis looks down, and he scratches his cheek with a finger. "I'm...I'm going to become king someday, too. I guess. If it comes to that, I think I'd like you as the Oracle to guide me instead."

Prompto stares at him. "Oh," he says, still processing Noctis' words, then he grins. "Oh!" He laughs, and though Noctis isn't looking at him, he knows his friend is embarrassed, because his ears are turning red. "No, I'm not laughing at you!" Prompto says, and he kneels in front of Noctis, looking up at him. True enough, Noctis is embarrassed, red and frowning and staring hard at his hands. "Noctis, come on! You don't realise how glad I am?"

Noctis' frown softens, and he looks at Prompto. "Are you?"

"Yeah." Prompto grins at Noctis. "We're going to be the best King-Oracle team ever. We're going to be so great. We'll fulfil prophecies together!"

Noctis raises his eyebrows at that, and then he smiles. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah. Me too."

Later, Prompto goes and gets another sylleblossom to give to Noct. He takes it gratefully and quietly stares at it, twirling the flower between his fingers. Prompto watches him for a moment, then he lifts his camera.

He quietly takes a picture and saves it.

\--

One sunny afternoon, Prompto is dashing from his room straight to Noct's room, holding a thin, yellow book against his chest. He asked Ravus to buy it for him, because he has something in mind that he wants to ask Noct now that the Lucian royalty only has a few days left before returning to Lucis. It's a pretty good idea, Prompto thinks. Kind of creative, too. And old school. _Really_ old school. But mostly creative.

He skids to a stop in front of Noct's room, breathing heavily, and when he’s regained his composure, he knocks on the thick wood twice before entering.

Noct is in his wheelchair, parked in front of the tall window that showcases the mountains surrounding Tenebrae. Pryna sits beside him, and he's watching the clouds float through the mountains that briefly obscure the sun now and then. When he hears Prompto enter the room, he wheels his wheelchair around to face Prompto. Pryna barks at him in greeting.

"Hey," Noct greets, and Prompto waves his hand at him. As Prompto approaches, he eyes the yellow book tucked against his chest. "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" Prompto grins, stopping in front of him. "Check this out."

Noct looks at Prompto, then at the book that Prompto is practically shoving to him. He'd be lying if he says he is not excited to tell Noct this cool idea he had. Cor already agreed that Umbra will help with this, so! He...just hopes that Noct would agree to this. Noct gingerly takes the book from his hands and flips it to the first page. Blinking, Noct's fingers brush against the smooth photo paper firmly pressed against the page.

"This is..."

"You." Prompto pauses. "Uh, I took your picture once when you're not looking. Sorry."

"That's fine, but..." Noct makes a face. "I don't even look good here."

Prompto blinks, then he looks at the photo. Obviously, it's Noct, holding a sylleblossom Prompto got him after he put the first one into Prompto's hair. He's looking fondly at the flower, his dark blue eyes soft and his lips curled into a small smile. The sunlight behind Noct make it seem like he's glowing, and honestly, it's one of the best pictures Prompto had taken. He actually thinks it's a fluke. Prompto has no idea why Noct thinks he looks bad in it.

"But you do! I mean, cute, I guess? And the lighting is---no, no, no!" Prompto shakes his head, and he frowns. "We're getting off topic, Noct."

Noct looks confused now, and he holds the book as if he doesn't know whether to just give it back or not. Prompto decides to put his hands on top of the book to keep it in Noct's hands.

"I have a favour," Prompto proceeds to say, but he stops, backtracks. It's not exactly a favour, really, just something he really wants to do with Noct, and if Noct says no, he can't really force it. He tries again. "I mean, there's something I want us to do." He pats the book in Noct's hands. "So, this is a photo album."

"You don't say."

"Hush!" Prompto says, and he and Noct smile cheekily at each other. "Anyway, I want you to bring this with you when you go back home."

"Okay."

"If you don't want to, that's---" Prompto pauses, and he blinks at his friend. "Really?"

"I don't know why you look so surprised. Of course, I'll do it." Noct tilts his head to the side, eyeing Prompto curiously. "Am I supposed to just bring it home, or is there something else?"

"Oh, uh." Now that he's supposed to tell Noct his idea, it suddenly sounds dumb. Is this even a good idea? Phones are a thing, for Six's sake! Maybe this is a bad idea, but Prompto really wants to do it. "Um," he starts, hesitant, but the look on Noct's face urges him to continue. "I was thinking that once you get home, you should put a photo here, too. Scribble some message, and send it back to me. Umbra will be the one to bring it back and forth."

"Like...secret messages. That only the two of us know."

"Yeah, exactly!"

Noct doesn't even take a moment to think about it, immediately smiling at Prompto like they're about to do something really sneaky. "That sounds cool. Let's do it."

The grin Prompto makes at that moment should be in the Book of World Records for the Widest Grin Ever Made.

\--

"Noct?"

"What?"

"Have you seen chocobos?"

"...I have. In a zoo. Why?"

"You! Are so _lucky_. I've never seen one personally! Only in T.V."

"Then...how about _you_ visit Insomnia, then I show you chocobos."

"Is that for real? It's for real! I'm totally in. I mean, if mum will allow it."

"I'm sure she will."

\--

Oh, how time flies when you're having fun.

It's the eve of the Lucian royalty's departure. As a gesture of goodwill, there will be a small gathering to celebrate Noct and his father and to wish him a full recovery and safe journey back to Lucis. The day before was spent preparing for the gathering, everyone making sure that everything is perfect and that nothing goes wrong. Prompto wanted to help, but he was told he's going to have a much more active role during the gathering itself. He'd be the photographer!

Sure, why not. He'll take a lot of pictures of Noct. Not like he hasn't been doing that a lot lately.

Prompto can't help the bounce in his steps as he wheels Noct out of his room to the garden, Pryna and Umbra trotting behind them. Today would be a great day, he just knows it.

"You're way skippier than usual," Noct can't help but take note, and Prompto leans to the side to grin at him.

"Yeah, well, we're throwing you and King Regis a party! It's going to be really fun."

Noct smiles. "I already have fun hanging out with you, though," he tells Prompto as he leans back into his wheelchair, all comfortable. It's a good sight to see, because when Prompto first saw Noct in his wheelchair, he had been so gloomy. Prompto's proud to think that he had a hand in getting the Prince to look like that now.

Prompto straightens himself as they round a corner, nodding cheerfully at the greeting servants as they pass by. "Well, okay," he says, "then it's going to be _double_ the fun, because everyone's going to be there! And we're going to take a lot of pictures. Great, huh?"

"I guess so, yeah."

The gardens, as expected, is beautiful. Tenebrae is known for its flora and greenery, with plants and trees every which way and green vines crawling over the white marbles of the manor. The sun filters through the trees that made the gardens' canopy, creating soft, dim lights that brought out nature's beauty. White and silver decorate the gardens, immaculate silk drapes the tables and soft twinkling lights are weaved through the bushes and trees surrounding the area. It’s a simple yet lovely setup. Prompto loves it.

Noct seems so taken aback by the scene that all he can muster is a soft "pretty..." Prompto chuckles.

"Right? The setup is prettier at night. I took a picture last night! I'd show you in my camera, but that will ruin the surprise."

Noct looks up at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I like surprises."

"And that is why I won't show you the picture."

Pushing Noct down the rocky staircase proves to be a challenge. Prompto's kiddie spaghetti arms don't have enough strength to push the wheelchair down without toppling Noctis over, so he has to ask for a servant for help. As soon as they reach the last step, everyone already at the gathering---his mother, Ravus, King Regis, and other nobles--- welcomes the two boys. Prompto happily wheels Noct towards King Regis and his mother, a big smile on his face.

"Here they are," Prompto's mother says, almost cooing and with a soft smile on her face, and as they approach, she addresses the crowd. "We welcome our prestigious guests, King Regis Lucis Caelum, and his son, Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. Here's to the Prince's full recovery, as well as their safe journey back to Lucis." Prompto wheels Noctis to face the crowd, and she raises the small martini glass she's been holding. Everyone else follows suit, raising their glasses as cheers. Prompto leans onto Noct's backrest as everyone empties their glasses.

"Kinda want a glass of Sprite, too. Maybe we should ask for some. I like Sprite."

"I'm pretty sure that's not Sprite."

"What's that, then?"

"Um, white wine?"

"Oh." Prompto tries not to look disappointed. He probably failed, because when Noctis turns to look at him, he smiles cheekily at him, obviously amused. "We're definitely not allowed to have that."

Noctis chuckles, and he’s supposed to say something when a giant shadow looms over the entire garden. Needless to say, everyone looks up, and hovering above the gardens are enormous things Prompto has never seen before. Giant metallic things that vaguely look like carriers, and as they slowly open, Prompto realises they _are_ carriers, holding...he doesn't know what those are. He looks at his mother, and he finds that she's wearing an expression that he's never seen before, either.

"Mum...," Prompto starts, "what's---"

An _explosion_ behind them, dirt in his mouth, pain on his left temple, something wet. Blood...?

Prompto coughs and pushes himself off the ground, spitting out the dirt he ended up eating when he fell. There's a ringing in his ears that won't stop, drowning out the sounds in his surroundings, but he can still faintly hear them: the muffled sounds of screaming and gunshots. He's on his knees, blinking, trying to ease his vision back. Dark spots dance around his vision, and when he turns his head, wincing at the pain on the left side of his head, he sees Noct's wheelchair toppled to the ground.

Tears sting his eyes, his hands shaking as he scrambles to get to the wheelchair. His hearing and vision slowly clear on their own as he moves, and he determinedly ignores the faint throbbing in his head. He finally gets to the wheelchair, and---

Nothing.

There's no one in the wheelchair.

"Noct?" Prompto mutters, and then louder, his voice cracking, "Noct! Mum!"

He hears metal shuffling behind him, and he turns and finds one of those things from the flying carriers. It twitches, dragging itself towards Prompto as he himself scrambles back. It raises its arm towards him, and he realises there's no arm, really. What is supposed to be an arm is something like a gun, about to fire at him, and Prompto can do nothing but stare at it, his body locked in place with fear.

A familiar voice calls out to him, and before Prompto can react, the thing's 'arm' is cut off, falling to the ground with a metallic _thunk_. Prompto gapes at it for a moment, and when he looks up, Ravus tears through the thing with his sword like it's nothing. Prompto quickly realises that this is the wrong Ravus has to look out for to draw his sword.

"Lord Prompto." Ravus is on his side immediately, hands on his face to check his wound. He glowers as he wipes the blood off Prompto's face. "They'll pay for this."

"'M fine," Prompto manages to say, his head whoozy, but Ravus simply shakes his head and scoops Prompto into his arms.

"We have to go. King Regis---he's still here somewhere. He'll lead us out."

King Regis...

As they make their way through the chaos, Prompto sees far too many things at once, things a child like him shouldn't see: corpses of the Tenebrian nobles and servants alike, monsters setting fire to the garden, his favourite flowers turning to ash, and---Pryna and his mother, lying dead.

Prompto's hitches at the sight, his voice shaking. "R-Ravus---"

"Don't," he cuts Prompto off as he hurries past them, putting his hand on top of Prompto's head to keep his head down. "Don't look."

He keeps his face buried in the crook of Ravus' neck.

It's probably faster than Prompto thinks, but after what feels like an eternity of running, of trying to escape what Prompto thinks may be the inevitable, Ravus is finally calling out for King Regis. Prompto lifts his head and looks, and he sees the King running with Noct in his arms, and the rush of relief overwhelms him.

"They're over there!" Prompto screams, as if Ravus doesn't know that yet.

His voice rings throughout the garden, and Noct looks up, locking eyes with him. Noct's eyes widen, and then he's struggling in his father's hold, pointing at Prompto and Ravus.

King Regis doesn't stop running, though, still creating distance between them, and the armour-clad men are now hot on their trail.

"Dammit," Ravus says, still running. He almost stumbles, making him curse more. He grits his teeth. "...You can run, Lord Prompto. I've seen you run. Even our fastest in the manor can't catch you."

Prompto isn't stupid. He's just a child, that's true, and he likes to make light of things, but he's not stupid. He knows what Ravus is thinking. "I don't wanna," he says, and Ravus shakes his head.

"You have to," Ravus says, and he narrowly avoids a soldier attempting to catch then, still running after the King. "I can buy you time. You're going to be the Oracle. Be the light that this world needs."

Be the light---

There's another sound of a gun firing, one that particular stands out to Prompto despite the chaos he hears, and then Ravus falls to the ground, dropping Prompto as well. He’s groaning, and Prompto sees that he was shot on the leg. Another shot, and it hits Ravus' shoulder blade. Prompto screams.

"Go! Go!" Ravus reaches out and shoves Prompto backwards. "Go!"

If it isn't for Ravus screaming at him, he would've been frozen in place again like before. He can't think, and his body merely follows what's been ordered to him. Prompto scrambles backwards, away from Ravus, and then he pushes himself up and runs.

He's a fast runner. Everyone knows that chasing after him is always futile, and he's not even trying then. Now, though, as he puts all the energy he can muster into running, he can see how he easily catches up to King Regis, and then soon enough, King Regis turns and reaches his hand out to him, Noct looking at him with the look of relief he himself might have worn a while ago.

Prompto reaches out, too, and then he hears a scream.

Ravus.

He looks behind him. The scary men caught Ravus, and they're holding his arm in a funny, unnatural way, and he can see how it puts Ravus in pain. It's a split second decision, but it feels way longer, way scarier. At the same time, though, it makes Prompto feel a little braver.

He stops running, pulling his hand back, and he grins at Noct before picking up the biggest stone he can find. He turns and launches the stone at the scary man hurting Ravus.

It's quick after that. Prompto hears Noct screaming, but when he turns back, the way is blocked by the scary men. No longer can he see King Regis and Noct, and they stop hurting Ravus and instead take them. His friend looks at him with wide unbelieving eyes, as if Prompto betrayed him, and Prompto wonders with needles prickling his eyes if he'd done the right thing.

The garden is burned, destroyed. The silver and white and gold that adorned the area are nothing but charred black and soot. The vivid blue of the sylleblossoms Prompto loves so much are no more, the same way that the queen Tenebrae loves so much is no more.

Later, Prompto finds out, that the attack was of Niflheim, Lucis' sworn enemy, and Tenebrae was caught up in their attempt to kill King Regis and Noct.

Prompto also finds out that the Lucian royals managed to escape. He could've been with them, and he could've been in Insomnia now, with Noct showing him chocobos like he promised, but as Prompto sits in his room, with Niflheim soldiers guarding outside, and petting Umbra and watching Ravus sit despairingly in one of the couches, he realises that while he's very, _very_ scared, he doesn't regret being left behind.

Noct said Tenebrae is a pretty land to rule, and Prompto wants to keep it that way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why? Why did you come back? You were with them. King Regis was holding his hand out for you!"
> 
> Ravus is livid, pacing back and forth in front of Prompto's bed---as much pacing as his limp allows, anyway. When Prompto ran, Ravus was content watching him catch up with the king. He was content to die where he was, so long as he kept his promise to Queen Sylva to protect her only child. He couldn't protect his sister, so he wanted to protect the Oracle who would help the world and the people like him and his sister. It was the best he can do to thank the people who helped him get back up on his own feet, his history be damned.
> 
> But Prompto blew it by coming back for him. Why? He's just a servant, and a filthy Niff, for that matter. Ravus' people destroyed Tenebrae. Prompto knows that, and _yet_.
> 
> Normally, Prompto should be looking ashamed now, looking down or away from Ravus as he fumes. It's what he always does, every time Ravus is lecturing him about how he never takes his training seriously, but now he's looking at him, with wide blue eyes that remind Ravus too much of his sister, and when he speaks, it makes Ravus stop.
> 
> "I...," Prompto starts, and now he looks down, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I don't...wanna leave you alone...again." Ravus' eyes widen, and Prompto sniffs. "I d-don't wanna...leave my...h-home to bad guys."
> 
> Prompto starts crying, shedding big tears as he wails, and Umbra gets up to lick his tears, but he keeps crying.  
> "I-I miss m-mum, and-and C-Cor, and Pryna---" Prompto hiccups. "A-And N-Noct. I-I'm sorry...y-you're angry. I---"
> 
> Ravus kneels down in front of him, raising his uninjured hand to wipe Prompto's tears and Umbra's saliva off his face, and Ravus holds him against his chest and rocks him side to side.
> 
> "No, I'm sorry," Ravus says. "I'm being mean. I understand now. I'm not angry."
> 
> Prompto continues to cry, though, and he continues to hold the young prince. He forgot that he was talking to a child, still so young yet so brave. Prompto came back for him and saved his life, despite how horrified he must've been. It's no easy feat, Ravus knows now.
> 
> He's always been in awe of Prompto, and now he doesn't just owe his life to the late queen, he owes his life now to the prince.
> 
> And pay back what he owes with everything he has, he will.


	3. ascension (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompto's smile is still bright and radiant, and it's worth it.
> 
> always worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO! glad this is up. this was incredibly painful to write, and i'm not even _that_ happy with how it turned out. :/ i still do hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though! because i sure didn't. i'm sad, and i'm sorry for what happens here. poor boy has to go through it.
> 
> this chapter has been split into two parts, because, if it's not obvious yet, this got INCREDIBLY long, and i'm already taking too much of my time as it is, so have the first half :3c
> 
> also! this is completely unbeta'd, as with all my piece of shit fics, and i barely skimmed through the stuff here and it's 2 am. i gotta apologise for any glaring mistakes here (and in the future lol).
> 
> as usual, [they](http://chocobaes.tumblr.com) started this mess, and i just dumped my own shit on their mess. check their art, you guys! also, i should've mentioned this earlier (SMH ME), but this au has other [good shit](http://archiveofourown.org/series/614446) you can read, too. check 'em out!

"Ah, so this is the heir?"

Prompto blinks, and he gapes at the man who sits in his mum's big chair. Not the throne, but the one with wheels under it, the one in his mum's office, the one he liked to steal and ride down the hallway when his mum wasn't working.

Prompto's face pinches at the memory, and he looks down at his feet. His mum's office has too much good things to remember, from the porcelain doll he's so terrified of sitting in her favourite shelf, all the way to the antique ceiling fan practically hovering above the entire room.

The man with the hat sitting in his mum's office chair is ruining it.

Prompto looks up at him, his fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. Prompto doesn't answer his question; it doesn't look like he's asking Prompto, anyway, and instead, Prompto says, "that's my mum's chair." His voice cracks in the middle of saying it, but he bites his lip, looking at the man determinedly. "That's my mum's chair."

The man raises his eyebrows at that, lips parting to form an 'o' as he leans towards the old, mahogany table filled with papers and books and paperweights. He smiles, slowly, and Prompto tries not to look scared.

"Ah," the man says. "Well, dear boy, it's mine now." He stands up, his fingers brushing against the table as he walks, and with every step he takes towards him, Prompto takes an unsteady step back until his back hits the door. "Everything here is mine now," the man says, towering over Prompto. "The table, the pretty rug, that bookshelf. Tenebrae is mine now." There's a glint in his eyes as he looks down at Prompto. "Even you."

Prompto whimpers as the man kneels in front of him. "Oh, dear. Are you scared?" He takes off the hat he's wearing to run his fingers through burgundy hair. "My bad, though I suppose I can't blame you. Poor little Prompto must have gone through so much." At the mention of his name, Prompto stiffens, but the man continues merrily. "It's okay, now, though. We'll take care of you. Be a good little boy, won't you?"

There's silence for a moment, Prompto's eyes trained on the ground, then a hand rests on his shoulder, big enough to cover the entirety of it. It's warm and calloused, yet it makes the hairs on his skin stand on their end.

"After all," the man says, "you have very little left. Don't make us take it a---ll away from you."

\--

For the next few days, Tenebrae is mourning, and changing. House Argentum---or only Prompto, at this point---gets to keep all its servants, the exception being the guards. All of them are replaced with Imperial soldiers, and so is the small army Tenebrae has. There's a man that uses his mum's office now, but it's not the man with burgundy hair and a hat. His name is Verstael, and he's someone old with a mean look on his face. Prompto gets a new tutor, and he's more boring than the last and makes Prompto read books he doesn't understand. Sometimes, he yells at Prompto when he doesn't understand something, which basically means he gets yelled at a lot. Prompto isn't allowed to learn swordfighting anymore, and Ravus isn't allowed to follow him around the manor anymore like he used to. Red flags adorn the roads and bridges that keep small villages in the mountains of Tenebrae connected, and sometimes, from his balcony, Prompto will see thick smoke in the sky. Sometimes, there's one trail of smoke. A lot of times, many.

At night, Prompto thinks the moon isn't as pretty as it used to be.

In the morning, Prompto works hard. He works hard, because, well, it's the only thing he can do now. He takes the man with the hat's words to heart and fears for what he could lose if he misbehaves. He doesn't know exactly what he could lose at this point, but it could be anything he holds dear: his bed, his camera, Umbra, Ravus---

It's a scary thought that almost makes Prompto cry, and it's what drives him to roll out of bed in the morning, even if all he wants to do is to hide under his sheets forever. Prompto behaves better, stops running down the halls, sits straighter in his chair during breakfast, doesn't whine and look for Ravus, and he learns to keep his head down whenever he passes by any Imperials in the manor.

He tries not to burst into tears when his tutor calls him stupid for not knowing something his tutor didn't even teach him, and he decides that he should spend more time in his room studying---memorising---his lessons in advance. It's hard; he spends far too much time in his room with his books, memorising every page instead of going outside and spending his day under the sun like he used to do. Sometimes he falls asleep on his desk, Umbra curled up on his feet, and sometimes he eats dinner scarcely so he has time for his books. He's not good at memorising, so he needs a lot of time to spend doing it, and even when he goes to class exhausted and tired because of the time he's spent, he still doesn't get the answers right.

His tutor calls him lazy and making excuses. If he's wrong, it means he's not taking it seriously; he's not really tired and just lying to get out of class earlier, and stupid eight year olds with cameras do nothing but laze around and take pictures. It's a waste of time. He's a waste of time. Prompto shouldn't take his tutor for a fool.

"Do it. Again. Better," his tutor commands him, glaring as he points at the sheet of paper Prompto is meant to fill in. "Don't make me tell Governor Verstael about this." And Prompto tries very hard to blink his tears away as he tries to recall what he's read---memorised---from his book, and he despises himself for failing to remember.

In the end, he doesn't get to answer anything right, and his tutor tells him that the governor will know about it before sending him away.

Prompto returns to his room more exhausted than he did this morning, and he takes his camera from his night stand. He doesn't turn it on, just stares at it and holds it tightly in his hands.

_It's a waste of time._

Prompto heads to his bathroom and dumps the camera in the trash bin. It's a good way to forget about it.

He has to be better.

\--

Ravus hasn't seen Prompto a whole lot since the night after the attack. He's not allowed to see the boy, being told that Prompto has a new set of guards to look after him while Ravus recovers from his injuries. It's frustrating, because he still lives in the manor with free enough rein to walk around without the threat of being manhandled, yet Ravus still hasn't seen so much as a golden strand of hair on the floor. It's been a month since then, and he's worried. The things he's hearing from his fellow servants about Prompto aren't helping matters at all.

"He really worries a lot of us now," Maria, one of the maids, says. She's serving Ravus some leftover soup as a snack. Ravus doesn't know why she's giving him soup, which is not even a snack, in the first place. He didn't ask for it. "He keeps to himself and no longer talks to us like he used to. He doesn't eat dinner as much as he used to, either."

Ravus sighs, looking at the bowl of soup. It's yellow, almost like piss, actually, and then Ravus immediately loses all interest to have it. He pushes the bowl away with his good hand. "That's worrisome," he says, and he can't tell if he means the way the soup looks or the general situation. He decides it's both.

"It is," she says with a nod before sighing. "He's not the same anymore."

"A lot of things are not the same anymore, Maria," Ravus says, quite bitterly. "You guys have to talk to him more. I doubt he'll ignore you if you do. He's not like that."

"We think so, too," she says. "And he always responds, but not much comes from him. One word, two words. Then it's quiet again and before we know it, he's back in his room. You know how he likes to go out under the harsh sun during the afternoon, but now he rarely even leaves his room." Maria sniffs, wiping her hand against her eyes. "Such a ray of sunshine, that boy, and now he's losing his radiance because of all this. None of us know what to do. We're scared."

It's just the two of them in the spacious kitchen, Ravus sitting in one of the chairs on the spare dining table there, and he only watches as Maria leans against the counter and continues wiping her eyes. Everyone can't deny how the future Oracle is the one keeping the household together. Prompto brings laughter with him wherever he goes, and now that he himself is dampened, the rest of the household feels it, too. It's barely holding together, anymore.

"You're the only one who can talk to him, Ravus," Maria says after a moment. Her eyes travel from his cast all the way to his leg brace, her eyes betraying more of her worries, and Ravus shifts uncomfortably.

"I know," he says, and Maria looks up to meet his gaze. "They won't let me see him, though." Maria sighs.

"I don't know why they'd do such a thing," she says, but Ravus knows why. He has an influence on Prompto, is perfectly capable on keeping Prompto grounded. The fact that Prompto bravely came back for him is enough evidence, and Ravus fears that they may be scaring Prompto to the point of isolating himself. He knows Prompto met the Chancellor. He knows that the Chancellor might have told Prompto something. It's all the more reason to see Prompto, but--- _dammit_.

Maria looks behind Ravus, then she raises her brows. "Oh, Alena." It snaps Ravus out of his thoughts. "I see you're done cleaning Lord Prompto's room. Is he there?"

Ravus turns to look behind him, and true enough, there's a girl standing under the doorway leading to the kitchen. Another one of the maids, though she's the one who always cleans Prompto's room. Brunette, with vibrant green eyes and tanned skin. Prompto likes her a lot, actually.

Alena shakes her head. "No," she says. "With his tutor." She looks at Ravus, then her face pinches to that of misery. "Oh, Ravus---"

"No pity party," Ravus cuts her off. "Again. It's been a month."

She rolls her eyes, and Ravus is amazed to see how quickly she dropped the act. "I know," she tells him. "I wasn't going to do that, anyway." She fishes out something from her dress pocket, and when Ravus sees it, his eyes widen.

Alena is holding Prompto's digital camera. It looks a little dirty, dusted off at the last minute, but it doesn't look like it suffered from any damage. "Why do you have it?" Ravus asks as Alena hands it to him. He turns it around in his hands, studying it.

It's an old model, certain parts of it obviously worn from use with how its red paint is already faded, revealing the grey metal. Prompto's had it since he was four, Ravus thinks, just a year after he started living in this household. He'd been the unfortunate model of Prompto's awful pictures, but the boy's smile and laugh had been worth it.

 _Always worth it_ , Ravus thinks as he turns on the device, and the last picture in the gallery is of Prompto and the Lucian prince, both children grinning at the camera. It pulls at his heartstrings.

When Ravus looks up, Alena is wringing her hands in front of him. "Um, yeah, about that," she says, and she looks miserable again. "I found it in his trash bin in the bathroom, when I was emptying it."

"...Trash bin?"

"He threw it away," Maria suddenly says, walking beside Alena, "is what you're saying?"

"I...I think so..." Alena looks down. "He loves that thing so much. He carries it everywhere. He wouldn't just, I don't know, accidentally throw it away? And it's in his trash bin in the bathroom. He barely throws anything there that I barely empty it, too. That...That says a lot, right?"

Ravus has tuned them out the moment Alena said Prompto threw it away. That couldn't be, could it? This thing holds every single thing Prompto loves. Going through the gallery reminds Ravus just how much love the boy has to give. It has too many things Prompto can't get himself to delete, pictures of the servants, the dining hall, the throne room, his mother, Ravus, twenty pictures of a snail, King Regis, too many pictures of Prince Noctis...

Everything and everyone Prompto loves, kept safe inside this thing. Prompto wouldn't throw this away.

Ravus inhales. "I'll return this to him," he says, and Maria and Alena look at him. "It was probably an accident, or Umbra might have fucked around with him and he's tripping over himself looking for it." He turns off the camera. "He won't throw this away."

Alena frowns, tilting her head to the side. "I suppose it's right that you do it, but..." She shrugs, looking down again. "You're not to see His Highness until you're fully recovered."

"I know," he says. "I'll figure something out."

"Figure something out how?"

"Dunno." Ravus pushes himself off the chair. He still needs his sling and his cane. A month of recovery isn't enough for wounds like this, but he'll have to try. If Ravus has to be honest, he doubts he'll really fully recover from this. "Maybe I can beg the governor. I'm as better as better can get."

Alena snorts. "Who? Verstael? He's a joke." Maria slaps her hand, and she yelps as Maria rolls her eyes.

"Watch your mouth. You don't know who's listening," Maria warns, and she sends Ravus a sympathetic look. "It's going to be difficult. Governor Verstael is..." Maria shrugs. "Difficult."

"You think I don't know?" Ravus says. "The guy fired the entirety of the Guard. I'm surprised he kept me."

"Well, you are a special case," Alena says. "You're not just part of the Prince's Guard, you're his personal confidante and attendee, along with Lord Cor, may the Astrals be with him, wherever he is. You care for him."

"Would be real nice if they let me do my job," Ravus grumbles as he makes his way out of the kitchen. "I'll go see the governor."

"Good luck, Ravus," Maria says, and Ravus sends the pair a small smile before shuffling out of the kitchen.

It's easy to get to the governor's office. None of the Imperial soldiers on guard care that the future Oracle's shield is limping his way to Verstael's office, which used to be the former Queen's. Ravus supposes that a limping refugee like him can't do jack shit, and what the soldiers really care about is him trying to go to Prompto's room. He's lost count of the number of times they stopped him, but that's why he's seeing the governor.

He stops in front of the intricate white doors that lead to the office. It's easy to tell it's the room where one is supposed to meet the current ruler of Tenebrae to discuss politics, with the fancy, silvery woodwork that decorates the doorway as well as the intricate carvings of the doors themselves. It's on par with the doors to the throne room, the only difference being the grand, luxurious hallway to the throne room that stretches all the way from one thick pair of doors to another, like it's meant to intimidate. It's the idea, considering the throne is mostly meant for meeting commoners who seek audience with the current ruler.

Verstael, though, does not meet with Tenebrae's people, preferring to bark orders within this room. Niflheim rules Tenebrae in a regency, claiming that they will restore Tenebrae to its rightful ruler once he's ascended as the new Oracle, but Ravus can see through their ruse, being a pawn of theirs once. They're going to use Prompto and his power once he ascends, and Ravus has to get Prompto out of here before it gets to that.

As he is now, though, he's powerless to do anything, and all he can do for now is to bend to the empire's will.

Ravus takes a deep breath, and he knocks.

\--

"Ah, what's this?" Verstael's smile is mocking as Ravus walks into the office, and as the door clicks closed behind him, courtesy of the soldiers stationed inside, Verstael's smile widens in a vicious manner. "Did the dog finally realise he'd been a bad boy?"

Ravus has to fight the urge to spit at Verstael, knowing full well the consequences. Verstael deserves it, but Prompto doesn't deserve to lose any more of what he has left. Ravus' hands curl into fists instead.

"Let me see Lord Prompto," Ravus says, almost seething, and Verstael's smile disappears, his brows rising.

"Prompto...? Ah," Verstael says, and he chuckles. "Yes, the future Oracle. My, I keep forgetting his name. I didn't really think that a boy in the Oracle lineage would be of any significance, yet here we are."

"Let me see him."

"Well, aren't you eager." Verstael makes a show of looking behind Ravus, then he smiles again, loose patches of skin on his face wrinkling as he does so. "Where is your sister?"

Ravus takes a step forward, his glare menacing, and the stationed soldiers take a step forward, too. "Don't you dare talk about my sister. Let me see my lord."

"I can see the resemblance," Verstael says anyway, ignoring Ravus. "Blond hair, wide blue eyes, and very eager to see the world and hold it in their tiny little hands. No wonder you're attached." Verstael tilts his head to the side, and his words ring in Ravus' ears. "She was the same age as the Oracle, too, when she died screaming your name." Ravus takes another step forward, blood roaring, and Verstael waves a hand.

One of the soldiers puts a hand on Ravus' injured shoulder and shoves him against the wall, his shoulder hitting it first. He gasps, the dull pain in his shoulder suddenly blooming as if a spike is suddenly shoved into his wound, and the guard keeps him pinned there, palm digging into his shoulder.

"I believe you forget where you are," Verstael says, his smile wry, and Ravus growls at him. "What you are. Do they know? The ink etched on your skin underneath that fancy leather bracelet?" He leans back into his chair, fingers touching together.

Ravus grits his teeth, then he breathes out a laugh. "Yes, they know, and they accept me." He grins at Verstael's surprised expression. "Surprised? They saved me when I cut this same wrist after losing my sister. They're not monsters like your filthy, daemon-infested empire."

Verstael narrows his eyes at Ravus, and he redirects his gaze to the soldier who has Ravus pinned to the wall. Verstael nods, and Ravus is thrown to the ground.

"You completely forget why you came here, so consumed by your hate," Verstael says as Ravus groans, his injuries throbbing in pain. "You said you want to see the Oracle. Well, we can give you that."

"What are you---"

Pain wracks through Ravus' body as the soldier steps on his shoulder, and Ravus can faintly hear his own scream echoing in the spacious room.

"Oh, not yet," Verstael says, and the soldier pulls Ravus up by the collar, forcing him to face the governor. "We'll wait until the Oracle comes." Ravus' eyes widen.

"No."

"This is what you want, isn't it? Kicking and screaming, even. Really, you're such an unruly child, even back in Gralea. Remember? You punched a researcher once."

"No, stop." Ravus tries to reach for his cane, but the soldier's grip on his injured shoulder is too tight he can barely do anything but grit his teeth in pain.

There's silence for what feels like eons, dread churning in Ravus' gut. Verstael sits in his chair, looking amused, and Ravus should've spat at his face the moment he had the chance. He should have, he _really_ should have---

There's a small gasp behind him, small and meek, accompanied with the sound of the door closing. "Ravus...?"

Ravus' blood runs cold.

The soldier holding Ravus forces him to move, forces him to face Prompto. He seems smaller than the last time Ravus saw him, or at least he's making himself small in this too big room. He's clean and well-kept, but there are dark circles under his eyes an eight year old shouldn't have, and he's staring wide eyed at Ravus, gaping like a fish. Then Prompto breaks into a smile, so wide and so radiant, it pains Ravus.

"Ravus!"

Prompto starts to run, and Ravus instinctively spreads his arms wide to meet him, or at least as wide as his injury allows him to, but the soldier behind Prompto takes him by the waist and lifts him, and Prompto squeaks, his hands on the soldier's arms, trying to pry them off him.

"Hey!" Prompto complains as Ravus arms drop to his sides, and Ravus feels the heaviness of misery settle in his chest. "What's the big idea?" He looks at Ravus, then at Verstael, and whatever other protests Prompto has die down in his throat. He looks down, chewing his bottom lip.

"Hello, Your Highness," Verstael says. "I heard from your tutor that you're doing better now. You've been a good boy."

At this, Prompto slowly looks up at Verstael, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. He looks hopeful, his blue eyes lighting up at the praise, and Ravus can't bear to look at it, because he knows what he's going to happen.

And it's going to be his _fault_.

"However," Verstael says, and Prompto's smile immediately falls. "I heard how you yelled at one of my soldiers. That's not good." Prompto's eyes widen at that, and the look of stricken horror as Prompto's gaze return to Ravus makes him sick in the stomach. Prompto squirms in the soldier's arms.

"I-I'm sorry," Prompto starts. "I didn't mean it. I already told him sorry. He said---it's okay, and he understands. I---"

"That's not good, Your Highness. You know what the Chancellor told you."

Prompto is already crying, tears freely falling down as he lays helpless in the soldier's grip. Ravus forces himself to look up, their eyes locking, and he smiles, a silent reassurance that everything is okay, don't worry, it's _not_ Prompto's fault---

He hears Prompto's scream first before he feels the pain on his abdomen, and he topples to the side. He moves to push himself up, but the soldier steps on his shoulder again, this time harder, really meant to hurt as the soldier grinds his foot against his injury. Ravus grinds his teeth, refusing to make any sound with every hit he endures. A kick to his injured leg, relentless stomping on his hand, a kick to the face, all the while Prompto is wailing in front of them and begging them to stop, apologies streaming out of his lips like a mantra.

They beat him, while he lays down cowering and curling in on himself, trying to protect Prompto's one and only treasure, as Prompto himself continues to cry. This is _his_ fault. Verstael openly laid out the bait, and he fucking took it like a champ. He may deserve this, but Prompto doesn't. He's just a _child_ \---

Ravus gags at the last hit, falling to his side with a soft groan, and when he moves, he finds that he can't move half his body again, just like the first time he was shot. He can faintly hear Prompto's tearful whining, but the pounding in his head mostly drowns it out. He hears voices, talking, but he can't really tell who's who anymore, and then they're dragging him out the room, and...and---

He blacks out for a moment, then he feels soft, flat surface. He's still on the floor, that much he can tell, but somehow it's way softer than the floor in Verstael's office. Ravus runs his uninjured hand against the floor. Soft wool, a carpet. It's immaculate white, like snow. He's seen it before, then after a moment, he realises he's in Prompto's room.

"R-Ravus..."

Ravus looks up, and he finds Prompto staring down at him, big, ugly tears staining his freckled cheeks. His mouth is curved downwards, his nostrils flaring as he loudly sniffs. His small hands hold Ravus' uninjured hand tightly.

"Hey," Ravus chokes out, and he manages a smile, tasting iron. Somehow, it seems to make it worse, and Prompto starts crying again. "Shh, hey. It's okay. I'm tough. I've had worse." He _did_ have worse. Pushed off a building? Psh. Lost a sister? Hah. But Ravus doesn't think he can handle any more of Prompto crying, so he forces himself up, ignoring the painful protests his body makes. He winces when he sees his own blood dripping and staining the carpet. He has to apologise to Alena for that.

Ravus brushes his thumb over Prompto's knuckles, swinging them to get Prompto's attention. "It's not your fault," he tells Prompto. "I forced him to let me see you. Yelled at him. He got mad at me."

"N-No...," Prompto meekly says, looking down and avoiding Ravus' gaze. "They told me...that i-if I'm not being good, they'll..."

Prompto tears up again, and Ravus shakes his head, shushing him. "Not your fault," Ravus says. "Never your fault. You're a good boy. Always been, and..." Ravus pauses, remembering the reason he went through the trouble seeing Verstael in the first place. If…If it weren't for his own hot temperedness, he wouldn't have to give it back like this. "I got something for you."

He gently takes his good hand from Prompto's grip, searching for something inside his jacket, and when he pulls out the camera, Prompto's eyes widen.

"That's---"

"Alena says she found it in your trash," Ravus says, and Prompto winces. The reaction makes Ravus deflate. Prompto _did_ throw it out. "Why?"

"Because..." Prompto looks down again, and, yeah, Ravus needs to stop giving him reason to cry. Ravus shushes him.

"It's okay. You don't have to answer." Ravus pushes the camera against Prompto's hands, who hesitantly takes it. "C'mon. Turn it on. Let's see your talent."

Despite the beating Ravus endured, the camera is still in good condition, no cracks and no anything. It lights up to life when Prompto turns it on. He opens the gallery, and he releases a shaky breath when he sees the last picture he's taken.

"It's me and Noct," he says, softly. Ravus smiles, ignoring the strain in his muscles.

"Yeah? Where'd you take it?"

"In...In his bedroom, before we went to the garden for the party."

...Ah. "Okay, let's see the next one." Prompto skips the picture of the garden at night, neither of them saying anything, and the next is of him and Prince Noctis again. This time, they're both wearing flower crowns made of sylleblossoms, laughing at the camera.

"That's cute," Ravus teases, and Prompto, finally, smiles.

"I think so, too," he says, blue eyes lighting up as he stares at the picture, and, despite his fuck up, despite the bruises and blood peppering his body, despite making Prompto go through hell, Prompto's smile is still bright and radiant, and it's worth it.

Always worth it.

Later, Ravus sits on Prompto's bed, still as he possibly could to let Prompto clean the cuts and bruises on his face. It's not much help, Ravus knows, but if it makes Prompto feel better thinking that he’s fine, then there’s no problem.

Prompto's hands are surprisingly steady and very cold.

"I'll be better," Prompto promises, gently swabbing a wet cotton on a cut on his cheek. "I promise they won't hurt you again."

Ravus doesn't say anything, but at that moment, he thinks that he had failed Queen Sylva, and he'll keep failing her until Prompto is out of this hellhole and safely reunited with Prince Noctis.

It has to change.

\--

It's past midnight, and Prompto is still awake. It's become a habit now, after doing it for a year non-stop, and he's definitely gotten better at staying awake this late. Well, he's being yelled at less by his tutor and getting better marks, and with it, looser security and better living arrangements for him and Ravus. After the incident with Governor Verstael, Prompto has gotten more careful with everything: careful not to make any more mistakes, careful not to upset anyone, careful not to be anything but perfect.

It makes Prompto tired, sometimes, that, usually, all he wants to do is sleep forever, but whenever Ravus walks into his room with a bowl of popcorn and invites him to watch silly cartoons with Umbra to unwind, Prompto always decides it makes everything okay.

So he keeps pretending to be perfect.

After what might be an hour or two of attempting to solve a problem in his math homework, Prompto stretches and yawns in his seat, and he reaches out to a cold cup of tea sitting on the far end of his study table. He stares at it for a moment before taking a sip. _Blegh_ , tastes bad. With a pure look of disgust, he puts it back to its saucer. He should've taken it when it was still hot, and Ravus left him that, what, around nine pm or something? Or maybe Ravus is just really bad at making tea. Ah, he wants some popcorn now...

Just as he's about to return to his homework, thoughts of popcorn plaguing his mind, he hears a faint scratching sound---something sliding open---then he hears the curtains on his balcony flapping and feels the cold wind. It's a great distraction from popcorn, albeit a scary one.

"What...?" Prompto twists in his seat, blue eyes widening at the blowing curtains from his now open balcony. He chews on his bottom lip, unsure what to do. He's sure he locked the glass doors before starting on his homework. Maybe he didn't lock it right. Or maybe it's some daemon, and he's going to die.

Okay, who is he kidding. All the lights in his room are on, and he's pretty sure Oracles taste bad to daemons. He just didn't lock the doors right.

Prompto gets off his chair and goes straight to the balcony, his feet dragging across the carpeted floor as he does so. His hands get ahold of the flapping curtains, pushing them aside to reach for the glass doors, then he stops.

Prompto blinks, staring at Umbra who sits outside, wagging his tail excitedly.

"Umbra?" Prompto looks behind him and scans his bedroom, and sure enough, Umbra isn't inside, because he's outside. Go figure. Not like he paid much attention to the dog lately. He only saw Umbra in passing as of late, like when Prompto would go and get a glass of water in the kitchen, and he would see Umbra laying down on the marble floor, or when he'd see Umbra trying to take a dump in the garden, even though he's a magical dog and doesn't need to take a dump. Then Prompto realises he hasn't seen Umbra all week. He looks back at Umbra.

"Uh, where've you been, buddy?" Prompto asks, and Umbra barks before standing on his four legs and leisurely trotting into his room. Prompto watches as he does so, sighing, but it catches in his throat as he sees something familiar tied on Umbra's back: a thin, yellow book.

"Oh, gods," Prompto breathes out, and he stumbles after Umbra, forgetting the open balcony and diving into his bed next to the dog. He tugs at the photo album, and for a moment, he studies it, his fingers brushing against the plain cover of the book.

One year ago, he asked Noct to bring this home with him and return it with a photo and a message using Umbra. Prompto...didn't even think Noct would do it, after all that happened. Gods, if Prompto has to be honest, he completely _forgot_ about it. It's a pleasant surprise, and he can already feel tears in his eyes as he opens the album.

The first page was Noct's picture, taken by Prompto, and he takes a moment to look at it fondly. It had been a year since the last time they'd seen each other, a year since they met and became friends and were torn away from each other. He remembers how Noct thought he looks bad in this photo and how he disagreed, and really, until now, he thinks Noct looks wonderful in this photo. In every single one Prompto had taken, actually, Noctis looks wonderful.

He allows himself a smile, flipping it to the next page, and there, pressed firmly against the page, is a Polaroid photo of a field of sunflowers.

 _they planted it in the gardens a few months ago_ , is scribbled below the photo in red ink and messy handwriting _. they bloomed this month and they make me think of you._ There are lines that look like they were hastily scribbled then scratched out with ink, until finally, at the bottom of the page, are two words, looking more messily written than the others.

_i'm sorry._

Prompto is still for a moment, reading Noct's words over and over, then he holds the album against his chest, tears welling in his eyes as he curls in on himself. It isn't fair; what happened to him and Noctis isn't fair. Prompto shouldn't be a prisoner in his own home, and Noctis shouldn't feel responsible for what happened. He misses Noctis and his smile, misses every single good thing in Tenebrae, and he wants to get angry and shout and kick the Imperial soldiers guarding his room on their shins for hurting him and everyone he loved, for making him feel like this.

Prompto is angry, and rightly so.

Instead of storming out of his room and kicking the soldiers on their shins, though, Prompto decides to have the one photo he kept from Noct printed and pasted on the album. After printing it with his own mini printer, he stares at the picture. Every time he goes through his gallery in his camera, he wants to pretend this picture doesn't exist, but he could never delete it---it's a picture he promised to show Noct, after all, and now he actually gets to keep that promise.

He pastes the photo onto the album, and with a blue pen, Prompto scribbles his own message down, even doodling a stick figure of himself and Noct in the middle of the photo, as if they are in there themselves, admiring the view captured in photo.

He looks at Umbra, who's laying in his bed watching him, and he gives Umbra a teary smile as he snaps the book closed, cradling it in his arms.

"I think it's time to call it a night," he says, and he puts the album down on his bed before closing his balcony and turning off the lights. When he gets in bed, he hugs the album close, and he can faintly smell a whole lot of scents that clung to the book, and standing out among them is the smell of smoke.

Prompto likes to think this is how the busy streets of Insomnia at night smells like, from all the things Noct told him, and he wonders as he falls asleep what it's like to see it with Noctis.

He wishes that Noct got to see his home in its most beautiful, too.

_the gardens at night is more beautiful in person than in photo. let's look at it together next time, noct! o(_ _〃＾▽＾〃)o_

\--

Ravus finds out about Noct's message the next day. It's kind of funny how he finds out, really, because Prompto is well-settled in the sofa in his room's receiving area, books scattered all over the place, and when Ravus walks into his room, a bowl of popcorn in hand, the first thing he says is, "you're ridiculously bubbly today."

Prompto looks up from his book. "Um," he starts, then he sheepishly grins. "S'that a bad thing?"

"What? No." Ravus looks taken aback by his question, but Ravus eventually smiles, too. "It's just that everyone noticed. It really brightened up everyone's mood." He closes the door behind him, and he carefully makes his way to the sofa, warily avoiding the scattered books and notebooks across the floor. Prompto should probably clean that up. Ravus never did get rid of the leg brace, which makes his walking more like limping and makes Prompto’s receiving area like an obstacle course to him, but even then, he's still snarky and funny as ever. "Did something happen? Your tutor suddenly dropped dead?"

Prompto snorts at that. "Naw. Something better!" He scrambles off the sofa towards his nightstand, snatching his camera from the drawer. He returns to his place in the sofa in record time, while Ravus is still making his way to the sofa. He patiently waits for Ravus to finally sit in the sofa with him, and when Ravus does, he turns the camera on, immediately opening the gallery.

"Check this out!"

Ravus' eyebrows rise as Prompto practically shoves the camera to his face, then he frowns.

"A picture of a picture of sunflowers," he dryly says. "Where'd you get the picture of sunflowers to begin with?"

Prompto grins. "Noct!"

"Noct?" A pause. "...Prince Noctis?"

"Shh!" Prompto says, taking back the camera and pressing a finger against his lips. "They're gonna hear you." He looks pointedly behind Ravus, at the closed door. Ravus follows his gaze, and he looks back at Prompto, nodding in understanding.

"Right," he says, and then, much softer this time, "when did you get the album back?"

"Just last night." Prompto flips through the other pictures in the gallery. He doesn't take a lot of pictures anymore; last year, after Ravus returned his camera, he only managed to take about three pictures: Umbra, his bathroom, and his very first perfect quiz. "This morning, Umbra left to deliver the album back. I think he'll be back next week." He goes back to viewing Noct's message again, zooming in to the sunflowers. They're really pretty.

"Ahhh." Ravus leans towards Prompto, looking down at the camera's screen. It's quiet for a second, then Ravus gasps, as if realising something. "He gave you _flowers_."

Prompto shrugs. "I guess?"

"What did he say?" Ravus is grinning, and Prompto doesn't get why. "Let me see."

Prompto squeaks in protest as Ravus suddenly snatches the camera out of his hands and moves it out of his reach. "Ravus!" he cries, and he yells when Ravus attempts to zoom out the picture. In a fit of desperation, Prompto crawls on him and reaches for the camera, and he yelps, dropping the camera to the floor. Prompto immediately dives for it.

"You could have broken it!" Prompto cries, cradling the camera close to his chest as Ravus laughs.

"Sorry," he says with a grin, and Prompto suspects that he is definitely not sorry at all. "What did he write?" Prompto, lying on the floor and still cuddling the camera against his chest, sticks his tongue out at him in reply, and he laughs again. "Alright, I fold, if you really don't want to tell me. It's a good shot, though," Ravus says, eyeing the camera. "Better than most of yours."

"You're mean," Prompto grumbles, rolling to his stomach and standing up, and Ravus laughs once more.

They clean up the area after that, picking up the scattered books and putting them on the coffee table nestled in front of the sofa, and then they sit in the sofa together, sharing stories and competing to eat the most popcorn. It's a daily thing now, and as part of the daily thing, too, Ravus is winning.

"Your hand is too big," Prompto complains when he realises he's losing again. "My hand is, like, a fourth of yours."

"A fourth," Ravus repeats, and he makes a show of grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl. Prompto whines. "You eat so fast you almost choke sometimes, though. Maybe if you're competing with someone your age, you'd win."

"...Like Noct?"

"Perhaps, but he's too modest to begin with, unlike you."

"Hey!"

Prompto pouts at Ravus, and he laughs again. Eventually, they return to grabbing popcorn from the bowl. This goes on for another few minutes, the two trying to snatch popcorn from one another, and when there's only a few left, Ravus suddenly brings up a question that takes Prompto off guard.

"Do you miss Prince Noctis?"

Prompto stops halfway through grabbing the remaining popcorn left, and he slowly retracts his hand, looking down. "I do," he answers. "A lot. Thinking about him makes me happy and sad."

Ravus nods, looking at the balcony, though Prompto doesn't see it. "Do you want to leave Tenebrae?"

At this, Prompto suddenly snaps his head up, looking agitated. He can't leave Tenebrae to these mean people! Ravus should know that by now, but before he can say anything, Ravus continues. "I mean, I'm not asking if you want to abandon Tenebrae and never come back,” he says. “I'm just talking about seeking refuge from all these mean guys, and then coming back for Tenebrae when you're big enough. When you can do something to take it back." He pauses, levelling his gaze with Prompto's. "I'm talking about going to Insomnia and seeking help there. They'll help you, you know. Prince Noctis certainly will."

Prompto stares at Ravus for a moment before looking down. Ravus has a point, he knows, but he can't help but wonder how Tenebrae would fare if he had gone. If Prompto hadn't come back for him, would Ravus even still be alive? Will they spare the remaining servants here? Prompto remembers the trails of smoke he saw almost everyday from his balcony, one year ago, and he can't help but think that things would've been far, far worse had he gone with King Regis and Noct that day. Tenebrae could’ve been the remains of a huge, nasty trail of smoke.

"If I wasn't here," Prompto finally says, "Tenebrae would've burned down." He looks up, returning Ravus' gaze and knowing full well what Ravus is trying to say. "I can't leave Tenebrae, Ravus."

Ravus' lips press together at Prompto's declaration, then he nods, solemnly. "I understand," he says, standing up. "If that's your decision, then so be it, Your Highness."

No other words are exchanged, and Prompto merely watches as Ravus excuses himself and slowly makes his way to the door, quietly leaving. He stays still for a moment and sighs, moving to rest his head against the sofa and looking up at the ceiling.

The popcorn bowl still isn't empty.

\--

So, in the end, Ravus can't convince Prompto to leave Tenebrae. The kid is too sharp for his own good, and he has already taken responsibilities without anyone knowing. He's just _nine_ , for Six's sake, and yet he's already far too aware of the responsibilities he has for Tenebrae---responsibilities that he takes to heart.

All the misfortune that befell Prompto aside, he really would’ve been an amazing ruler.

As Ravus makes his way back to the servants' ward, he can't help but curse at himself and his uselessness. What good is he for at this point? Protecting Prompto is the only thing he has to live for, and the best course of action to do just that is to get Prompto out of Tenebrae and safely to Insomnia. Prompto wouldn't leave, though, and as much as Ravus would hate to admit it, Prompto is right---without the Oracle, there's no reason to keep Tenebrae. Niflheim would've completely burned it to the ground.

"Dammit," Ravus grits out, completely ignoring the two Imperial soldiers he passes by. He doesn't know what to do at this point. Cor would've known what to do, but that son of a bitch is nowhere to be found. Did he die or something? Did he escape? Why did he just abandon Prompto like this?

As if things couldn't get any worse, the same Imperial soldiers he passed by earlier are now blocking his path. Ravus cusses.

"Get out of my way," he barks at them, and when the soldiers remain in place, Ravus himself moves past them, but before he could take a step, one of the soldiers grips his left arm and slams him against the wall. He groans in pain, and he glares at the soldier in front of him as the other soldier holds his right arm against the wall, too. "What---"

He stops, whatever words he's about to say forgotten, and he gapes at the soldier staring at him. The red, glowing eyes send a shiver down his spine, dread churning in his gut, and Ravus realises these are not soldiers, no.

They're MTs.

"Tsk, tsk," says a voice, and Ravus knows that voice, hates it so, so much it makes him want to throw up. He's talked to the man once, a year ago, when the man was about to leave the manor after his short talk with Prompto, and then Prompto suddenly started isolating himself. Ravus hates the man for manipulating Prompto like that, scaring him to be nothing but a dog following orders around, and Ravus growls at Ardyn Izunia as he approaches them.

"Oh, dear," Ardyn says, a smile on his face. "And here I thought we could have a nice little chat."

"What are you doing here, you piece of---"

"Ah, ah. Don't be like that." The MT holding his left arm moves its free hand to cover Ravus' mouth, and he struggles against the MT's hold, eyes widening to convey the very hatred he holds against the man in front of him. Ardyn's smile doesn't change one bit.

"I've come here to see how things are," Ardyn says, "Tenebrae is still a delightful place. I believe Verstael deserves praise." He studies Ravus' face, and Ravus very much would love to spit on him. "You know, I was delighted when I heard one of our escapees turned out to be hiding here in Tenebrae, and believe me, I was about ready to bring you back home kicking and screaming." His smile widens. "Then, as it turns out, you are such a good influence on His Highness. How could I take you away from him? Now, though..." Ardyn takes a step back, shaking his head as though disappointed. "I don't like how you tried to convince him to leave Tenebrae."

Ravus stops at that, the look of hatred in his eyes turning to that of confusion, then panic. How did he---? "Good thing he's such a good boy," Ardyn continues, "and good thing you returned his most precious to him. We wouldn't have known otherwise."

Most precious, wouldn't have known---

Oh, no.

No, no, no. _The camera_ \---how? And the album, _they know about it_.

"Oh, give me more credit than that," Ardyn says, knowing full well what's running in Ravus' mind. "I wouldn't do such an awful thing as to get in the way of a bubbling romance. Little Prompto deserves just as much, but you..." Ardyn returns to studying his face again, and he wants to turn away from Ardyn's disgusting gaze. "Ah. I know you want to protect poor, little Prompto, but you can't, given your condition now." Ardyn clicks his tongue, his face pinched to that of mocking sympathy. It only makes Ravus want to kick him. "It must be so, very hard, but I know a way." There's a glint in his eyes that raises the hairs on Ravus' skin, and Ravus' instinct screams at him to run and to get the fuck away from Ardyn. He couldn't, though, not with these MTs holding him against the wall, and his nostrils flare as he takes in deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

Ardyn's eyes flicker to his leather-bound wrist, and his next words make Ravus feel dread settling in his gut.

"Let's make use of that barcode again, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said ravus deserved better but i'm also a fucking hypocrite so what's the truth? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. ascension (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> now that he's the oracle, he likes to think he has more other means to keep the fire going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS CHAPTER:
> 
> \- this chapter and i had a full out brawl that lasted maybe a few days. it was a draw  
> \- the writing style in this chapter is a little bit off, i know, but perhaps it's like a shout out to the first fic i posted in this website. the style sure reminded me of it! it's not a bad thing, per se, but you know.  
> \- i originally meant to update de novo along with posting a new fic. if you've been following me on tumblr, you might have the faintest ideas about what fic it is exactly ;) but i just _can't_ not update de novo when it's been exactly a month since the last chapter. Yikes™  
>  \- now that i'm done grovelling over this certain part of the fic, i'm very excited to finally start on the next chapter, which i was already working on even before this chapter. it's where we finally start on diverging from the bullshit that is the canon timeline! sorry i'm salty  
> \- i'm upset about the lack of lore concerning the oracle. i originally wanted to tackle the lore more on this part of the chapter, because world building is fun! but i just went "eh" and completely abandoned the idea. have some half-assed bullshit. sorry.
> 
> now, as usual, this fic is based on [their au](http://chocobaes.tumblr.com)! check out their stuff, you guys. they're 100% good shit.

When Prompto wakes up on his own, no familiar sound of knocking and no familiar muffled footsteps, he starts thinking something is off.

He doesn't really say anything about it, though, and he doesn't mention anything to the other servants. It's probably just a onetime thing. These days, nothing is permanent, except for the red flags and the gnawing need to be better. Prompto calls for Alena to help him get ready for the day, to lay down his clothes while he showers, and to lead him down the dining hall for breakfast.

And it's like that for a few days, and Prompto slowly realises there is something _definitely_ wrong, but no one says anything about it. It's scary, how everyone, even _him_ , collectively ignores the glaring wrongness in the household for days, but on the fifth day, Prompto is finally fed up with pretending. He can pretend that he is someone perfect, but he can't pretend that everything is fine when it _isn't_.

So he looks up at Maria, who stands attentively across the dining hall, and he sits up straight in his too big chair. He sits at the end of the table now, in the magnanimous chair that's almost a throne. He's head of the household, they said, but Prompto knows that to everyone else who's of Niflheim, he's nothing but a snivelling kid.

"Maria?" Prompto says, and when she responds, he doesn't beat around the bush.

"Where's Ravus?"

The stifling silence that follows is more world shattering than when Prompto lost Tenebrae. He looks away from Maria's pained expression and stares at his lap, then he shuts his eyes tightly, his hands curling into tight fists as he inhales.

Everything, _everything_ is futile, and he lost another, again.

\--

The following days blur, bleeding together until Prompto can no longer tell when one day ends and another starts. He spends his days on what feels like auto-pilot: he wakes up, he gets ready for the day, he goes to class, he returns to his room, he studies, and he sleeps. Sometimes, he dreams, about nice things if he's lucky, but, usually, there are only nightmares, and he'll wake up only to find himself in a place that's dull and empty, and he thinks he prefers being in a nightmare than being in this hollow place he calls home.

Then Prompto realises, at some point, the manor stopped being a home, and he stops calling it as such.

\--

With Prompto spending his days mindlessly, almost like a zombie that he always scoffed at in T.V., he completely forgets that he is expecting a message.

It takes him by surprise again, when he finds Umbra sitting outside his balcony like before, one windy night, and when he sees the yellow album, he inhales sharply. Umbra doesn't even get to enter his room when he snatches the album and falls to his knees there, under the doorway leading outside, opening the album in such haste as if the album will disappear any second, as if this small connection with Noct is a lifeline.

In a way, it is; it really, truly is, and Prompto hasn't even completely looked over Noct's message when he starts crying, his fingers desperately memorising the feel of the newly added Polaroid in the album.

It's a real, tangible proof that he hasn't really lost everything just yet. He clings to it like his life depends on it, and he cries, because Noct still remembers him, because he feels utterly alone in this enormous manor, because he knows it's his fault that Ravus had gone and that no one knows where he is.

It's very selfish on his part, but Prompto doesn't reply to Noct immediately, and he keeps the album to himself, for a good while.

\--

Every night, he looks at the new entry in the album, to remind himself to keep it together. Noct's new photo is of flowers once again, this time of violets, but Noct is in it, or at least half of his face, his forehead and his deep blue eyes visible at the bottom of the photo.

The way Noct peeks from the bottom looks goofy, and it makes Prompto smile, even if it's just a little bit.

_theyre the closest to sylleblossoms, don't you think? send me some, by the way. i missed them. they'll always remind me of your eyes._

\--

Sometimes, on the worse days, Prompto would crawl under his sheets at night, to hide from the world and to keep the cold away. The album will be pressed close against his chest, and the only light that illuminates his small, dark world will be coming from the screen of his camera.

He falls asleep like that, and that's how it goes, for days.

\--

There's something different today, Prompto notices, but he can't put a finger to it.

Perhaps it's because it's colder than normal, but that isn't new. The drop in temperature months ago was sudden and unnatural, and it stayed that way. Prompto rolls out of bed, but instead of heading to the baths, he opens the doors to his balcony; he stares outside.

He blinks: the garden is thinly coated with snow, and it's not winter season yet. He turns behind him, and then he rushes to the door to open it, peeking at the stationed imperial soldier outside, who looks perplexed at the snow outside.

"Can you tell Alena to get me my coat?"

And that's how he gets his early winter clothing. His boots dig into the snow as he walks in the gardens, but maybe it's mixed with mud, considering the snow around, which isn't much. It's so cold, though, and Prompto watches the cold smoke as he exhales, and maybe in a different time, a much better time, he'd laugh at it.

Prompto hears a bark behind him, and when he turns, he sees Umbra running towards him. Prompto kneels to meet him, ignoring how the snow and mud dirty his pants.

"What's it, buddy?" Prompto says, running his hands through Umbra's thick fur. Umbra doesn't answer, obviously, seemingly pleased with the petting, and he keeps Prompto so busy that Prompto misses the first time his name is called, and the second time.

The third time, Prompto is called with his title and full name. He stops, as if frozen by the cold. He knows that voice, so stern and exasperated all the time, yet there's always a softness at the edges.

"Your Highness," Cor says again as Prompto turns, sounding exasperated but relieved all the same, and before he could say anything else, Prompto is already crashing onto him, throwing his arms around his neck, clinging to him. Cor is cold, way colder than the sudden winter in Tenebrae, but Prompto clings to him all the same. He has doubts, that maybe this is one of his dreams, and he'll wake up and find that he's still alone. It makes him tighten his grip on Cor.

Cor returns the embrace, just as Prompto starts to sob with quiet tears. His arms encircle around Prompto, one hand rubbing soothing circles on Prompto's back as Prompto buries his face into his clothes.

It's quiet, after that, and it's just the two of them in the garden, with nothing but the chill wind to accompany them.

\--

"Where were you, Cor?"

Prompto looks at him from his bed, having been tucked in by Cor. He can see how Cor's return affected everyone in the manor; the servants whisper, and the soldiers regard Cor with discomfort. The atmosphere somehow turned tense, more so than before, though Prompto pretends not to notice.

There's no hesitation when Cor, already on his way out of the room, looks at Prompto, and he turns to fully regard Prompto. Cor still looks the same; there are still the same frown lines on his face, and his blue eyes are as icy as ever. Cor is still, well, _Cor_ , and Prompto briefly wonders if he still looks the same to Cor.

Cor returns to the side of Prompto's bed, and his answer is brusque and on point: "I picked a fight with the Empire."

Prompto blinks. "Huh?"

"You heard me." Cor sits on Prompto's bed, looking at him with something Prompto can't read. "It's payback for what happened to Tenebrae."

Prompto can't tell if Cor is trying to tell a bed time story or if Cor is telling the truth. "I don't get it."

"You don't have to," Cor replies, "but know that you have more time. It's the least I can do, after what happened."

Prompto stares up at him, blinking. "Time for what?"

This time, there is hesitation, and Prompto watches Cor as he takes a moment to reply, and then---

"For what's to come."

Prompto doesn't understand it, but he figures that's what happens when you're just nine, about to turn ten. Prompto simply nods, eyes still wide at Cor, and when he asks his next question, it's almost quiet, too quiet that anyone who isn't Cor won't probably hear it.

"Will you leave again?"

"No," Cor replies, immediately and sure, and he puts his hand on top of Prompto's head. His hand remains still. It's a comfort. "And I'll stay here for tonight, if you wish."

When Prompto wakes the next morning, he finds Cor sitting in the sofa in his receiving area, his fingers carding through Umbra's thick fur, and Prompto hasn't felt so relieved in a long, long time.

\--

Cor finds out about Ravus, eventually.

It isn't as if Prompto is hiding it, to begin with. He just never knew how to tell Cor, and it isn't as if Cor will never notice the glaring emptiness by Prompto's side. Cor is bound to find out, sooner or later, and maybe it's why Prompto doesn't tell him.

That, or maybe it's because Prompto still doesn't want to acknowledge it.

He doesn't ask Prompto about it, like how Prompto thinks he would. He already knows. Prompto is studying for his history quiz when there is a knock on his door and Cor enters. Cor stares at Prompto for a moment, then his brows raise.

"You're awake at this hour? It's one in the morning."

"I sleep at three."

Cor squints his eyes at him, disapproving. "You won't get any taller if you keep this up."

Prompto almost snorts, because Cor doesn't know he's been at this for almost two years now, but he holds back. "I drink my milk."

Cor doesn't say anything after that, and instead, he eyes the open book on Prompto's desk. He closes the door behind him and crosses the room with quick strides as Prompto returns his attention to his book. Prompto gets interrupted again, though, when Cor drops something onto his book. He squints at the torn, white cloth Cor dropped, which is neatly folded, and then his whole body freezes, save for his eyes that widen at the cloth.

"Then I suppose now is the perfect time for this, then," Cor says.

Prompto's hands shake. "This is Ravus'," he breathes out.

"It is."

The cloth doesn't look like the way Prompto remembers it. Then again, he can barely run when he was three, let alone remember anything, but he knows how he was the one who found Ravus, who had a dark red cloth tightly wrapped around his wrist. This was it, only cleaned vigorously.

Prompto gingerly picks it up, unfolding it, and then something falls out and drops to his book, obscuring the ugly face of Lucis' 36th king. He picks it up.

"I was in Ravus' quarters the whole day," Cor says as Prompto studies the necklace that has fallen from the cloth, one hand still holding the cloth itself; he can't let go of it. "All his things are there, and all the things he holds precious to him are kept in a tin box."

The necklace is nothing special; the pendant is that of a crudely shaped crescent moon, threaded with a metal string. A moment later, and Prompto fiddles with the pendant until it clicks open---it's a locket.

And there's nothing inside it, the insides only marked with hastily carved letters: L and R, one letter on each half.

"Why did you go through his stuff?" Prompto asks, his voice quiet. He feels the tears again, and he blinks to get rid of them.

"To tell you something," Cor answers, crossing his arms as he leans against Prompto's desk. There's silence for a moment, Prompto's increasing sniffling the only thing filling in the quiet, then Cor speaks again. "Do you think Ravus would leave you?"

Prompto stills, then his face pinches with misery. "No..."

"Do you think it's your fault?"

His hands are shaking again, and he has a hard time saying the words. He buries his face with the torn cloth, and he finds it doesn't smell like Ravus.

"Your Highness."

Prompto breathes in, and he realises that the sound he made crosses between a distressed whine and a miserable gurgle. He bites his lip.

"Your Highness."

Cor's hands are cold; Cor himself is cold, but he is the warmest person Prompto has known since Ravus, and it does wonders to the brittle wall Prompto had unknowingly put up.

"I-It is, i-isn't it?" Prompto sputters through his now rolling tears, Cor running his fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. "They...They took him, b-because I wasn't---" A hiccup. "I-I wasn't good...e-enough."

Cor stops carding his fingers through Prompto's hair, and Prompto feels him shake his head before cradling Prompto protectively. He curls in on Cor, practically off his chair now.

"No," Cor says. "It's not because of you, or Ravus," he tells Prompto. "It's because of them."

"But they...they said---"

"I know," Cor says, softly. "I know, but they'll lie to get what they want. They're lying to you, and they'll keep hurting you. That stops now."

Prompto stills in Cor's hold. "R-Ravus tried to do the s-same thing, too." He tries to inhale, but it's so shaky and out of control. He can't control it. "They'll take you, too. Don't---" He chokes. "Don't---"

"No," Cor says, firmly. "They won't. You'll see."

When Prompto goes to sleep, too early than what his body had become used to, he dreams of cameras, of smiles and silver hair, and he unknowingly grips the moon locket that is now strung around his neck.

\--

Three months after Cor's return, Prompto finally sends Umbra to Noct, with a pressed sylleblossom and a picture of him in the newly planted field of the same flower in the inner gardens. Written along with them is a message as simple as Prompto's wish to be free.

_it's just me and cor now, noct. it's lonely, but i'm doing well._

_i miss you._

\--

Prompto is ten, and he starts his training as the Oracle.

Normally, the duty to train the future Oracle falls onto the one who currently holds the title, but since things have taken a tragic turn, there's no one else but the messengers to train Prompto. The worst part of this is that one of the messengers currently present is a dog, and the other is as cold as the sudden winter he once brought onto Tenebrae.

At least Cor doesn't yell at him like his tutor used to do; he's cold because he's stern, and Prompto can handle that. It drives him to work better without the threat of putting himself down. He's fine with it.

He learns of many things, even some he doesn't expect, one of those is how to sing. They had to hire a private trainer for it. Prompto thinks it's a little pointless, but he lets it. One of the important things he learns (Cor says that everything he learns in his training is equally important, but Prompto begs to differ), is that he has always been the Oracle, even before the last Oracle is lost. The ceremony to inherit the title and the power it carries is just a silly formality humans love so much, according to Cor; all he has to do is to learn to wield the power his title holds.

It's not easy. Cor takes note of how he's the one with the worst control of the magic so far, and it makes Prompto feel awful, even though he knows Cor doesn't mean anything by it and he's just _ten_. He practises, late into the night, despite Cor's warning not to do it without his supervision. Maybe Cor is right; Prompto starts waking up feeling more tired than the night, or early morning, before. He gets scolded for it, but he doesn't let it stop him, always feeling the uncanny warmth in his body and struggling to channel them to his fingertips. Every night, he does this, and every day, he feels drained, until Cor makes it a point to stay with him every night instead, helping him with his magic.

The first time he manages it, his fingers glow gold and bright, feeling the warmth steadily flowing to his fingertips, and it's amazing. He feels proud of himself, and Cor nods at him with approval. His magic glows like the sun as it rises, illuminating the dark of the night, and he remembers Ravus' words, on the day of the attack. The empty locket he wears suddenly feels heavy.

_Be the light that this world needs._

\--

_its a little lonely and tiring here. do you get tired, prompto?_

_duh! but if there's one thing that makes me roll out of bed the next day, it's your letters and lack of apostrophes_ _ﾍ(=_ _￣∇￣)_ _ﾉ_

\--

He learns about the prophecy of the King of Light, eventually, and he knows it's about Noct. He's swinging his legs in his chair---throne, who knows---in the dining hall, reading Cosmogony as he awaits his dinner. Cor stands beside his chair, attentive, and he raises his eyebrows when Prompto looks at him.

"About the prophecy," Prompto starts, and Cor just looks at him, urging him to continue. "How old is it?"

"Two millennia," Cor simply says, "perhaps older, but you know how we aren't the best at telling time." And Prompto looks back at the book with a thoughtful expression.

"They've been waiting for Noct?"

"Everyone is."

Prompto doesn't look very convinced. "How is Noct supposed to do it? There's still light. The sun burns my eyes in the morning."

"That's because you're sleep-deprived," Cor says, moving to pry the book from Prompto's hands when Maria and Alena enter the dining hall with Prompto's dinner, "and it isn't time yet."

Dinner smells great, but Prompto can't focus on it, too fixated on the topic. "When will it be? Can't it be me, instead? My job is to erase the Scourge, too."

"I can't tell you," Cor says with a shrug. "But you'll know, eventually, and when you do, you're the one who'll guide Prince Noctis to the path bathed in light."

Too deep for him, Prompto thinks, but he knows that's the Oracle's role: to stand by the King of Lucis, and to guide the world into the path of light.

"I'll try my best not to disappoint," Prompto determinedly says, his grip on his soup spoon unnecessarily tight. He hears Cor snort beside him.

"Prompto," Cor says, and he notices how Cor dropped the title. The usual iciness in his eyes isn't there. "You're already doing your best."

\--

_by the way, you know about the prophecy of the king? i hope you're reading cosmogony noct! i think it's about you._

_they tell me about it a lot. i dont find it fun exactly. i remember the little promise we had before though. still wanna go fulfilling prophecies together?_

_to answer your question on your earlier message: yes!!!!!!_

\--

Once, Prompto decides to flip through his pictures again, for old time’s sake.

He first thought he’d feel a pang of loneliness again if he does, but to his surprise, the pictures bring nothing but a hint of nostalgia instead, a sweet reminder of what once was---and perhaps that things could be the way they were before.

He pauses at his last picture of Ravus, the one he’d taken in the gardens after Ravus caught him lying on the grass, mud dirtying his princely clothes.

He prints it out, cuts it, and stuffs Ravus’ face in the right side of his locket, the one that’s labelled _R._

\--

_i have a question, humour me noct!!!! do you even have any other friends???_

_no, i have you._

_really cute, but don't be like that!!! go out more!!_

\--

Umbra hasn't returned for a month now.

Prompto shouldn't be freaking out. He kept Umbra from going to Noct for three months. While Noct is ever so vigilant at keeping in touch, it isn't going to be a surprise if Noct decides to keep Umbra to himself for three months, either, but the Oracle is connected to all his messengers, in a way, and somehow, he has a gut feeling that Umbra isn't with Noct.

When Prompto tells Cor this, one sunny afternoon in the gardens, he just rolls his eyes at Prompto. "You kept Umbra to yourself for three months."

"Yeah, but..." Prompto chews on his bottom lip. "I have a feeling Umbra isn't with Noct. What about you? Can you tell where Umbra is?"

"What am I, Your Highness, a dog tracker?" Cor pauses, and he waves his hand in dismissal. "Don't answer that, but know this: Umbra is fine. He won't die pretty easily."

"Pryna died pretty easily."

Cor blankly stares at him, and he returns the look. "Have more faith on your dog, won't you?"

Prompto just mutely nods, and Cor leads him back into the manor, the crown of sylleblossoms abandoned on the grass.

The days go by without Umbra returning still, and a month becomes two months, then three, then Prompto thinks he's going to die of a heart attack when Umbra does come home. Imagine this: the future Oracle, dying of a heart attack at the budding age of thirteen because of his dog.

"Gods!" Prompto practically yells at Umbra as he drops to his knees in front of him, enveloping the dog in a big, big hug. "Where were you? I thought you died!"

Umbra doesn't answer, and instead he wriggles away from Prompto's hug before trotting into the bedroom. Prompto watches Umbra do so with a sigh, and seeing the yellow album tied on Umbra's back in a neat ribbon, he follows the dog into his bedroom and takes the album.

The first thing he notices is that the album is now covered in cute stickers of different varieties, the second being it's bulkier than he remembers. Prompto stares at the album's cover for a moment. The stickers range from moogles to cute flowers to cartoon chocobos---which Prompto immediately adores---and when Prompto opens the album, something falls out of it and lands by his feet.

Prompto blinks, looking down, and when he sees what it is, his eyes widen and his mouth forms an 'o'.

"Oh, em, _gee_." Prompto scrambles to pick up the item, and he tries not to squeal when he confirms that yes, he isn't seeing things: Noct got him a chocobo keychain. "Noct, what the _heck_."

It's not as if Noct can reply to him immediately, though, so Prompto scrambles to his bed and flips the pages to the most recent one before realising there are _multiple entries_. Prompto flips back to the first of the series of photographs, and he finds a picture of Umbra himself, one paw bandaged.

 _umbra got here hurt :(_ is the first line written, and Prompto glances at Umbra, who's snuggling his head against Prompto's thigh. He pets Umbra's head affectionately.

"Aww, you didn't tell me you got into trouble," Prompto says, and Umbra licks his hand in reply. Prompto laughs, and he continues to read the message.

_but someone found him and she took care of him until hes well enough to start dragging her to me. her name's lunafreya. luna for short. shes nice but a little sarcastic -_- i think you two will be best friends_

The next photograph is a selfie of Noct and a girl, who's smiling shyly at the awkwardly tilted camera. She's blonde, her hair a shade paler than his, with vibrant blue eyes and smooth-looking pale skin. She's _really_ pretty. From the angle Noct had taken, Prompto can see the number of colourful bracelets on one wrist, so many it practically covers her entire wrist. Prompto can't help noticing the hanging chocobo pendant on one of her bracelets. Noct has her face encircled with his trademark red pen, and written on the side is _this is luna_ , with a squiggly arrow pointing to her. As if Prompto can't tell already. He can't help but smile.

Prompto spends the next hour or so going through the photographs. They're not much, but Prompto spends too long mulling over and laughing at them; there are only five photos, all telling the kinds of shenanigans the two had gotten into ever since meeting each other, Umbra included, of course. There's a picture of them in the dog park, with Noct's bodyguard, Iris, a picture of them going on a shopping spree with Umbra and Noct's cool advisor, Aranea, and Noct wrote about how he tried to get Umbra a new collar, only to get his collar of choice shot down by both girls.

 _they dont have taste_ , Noct had written under the photo of a spiked dog collar with a rainbow skull hanging from it. _it looks cool_

"It looks bad," Prompto says, chuckling. "The skull, at least." He makes a mental note to himself to tell Noct about it.

He turns to the last page of Noct's series of photographs, and there is a picture of Noct and Umbra, Noct's cheeks pressed against Umbra with a small, almost shy, smile. It makes Prompto feel a little warm on his cheeks, his smile turning soft as he commits the image in his memory, safely tucked away in a small corner of his mind that's filled with nothing but Noct.

Noct's final message isn't anything cheesy; it doesn't even mention anything about the chocobo keychain, and the message makes Prompto roll his eyes in amusement.

_take care of umbra more, dude_

\--

By the time he's fourteen, Prompto goes on excursions outside of the manor, with permission, obviously, to go around Tenebrae to see his people.

He rides on a horse with an entourage of imperial soldiers behind him, Cor riding by his side, because Tenebrae's bridges and cobblestone roads can't support cars, only the ones that connect to the train station. Prompto is overwhelmed by the amount of support he gets, of the people who immediately brighten at just the mere sight of his face, and he didn't think that after almost six years of not showing to the public, his people will still love him.

At that thought, Prompto stops. _His_ people. Tenebrae is still his pretty land to rule. It's his, and always will be, and he inhales deeply, before smiling sincerely at the gathering crowd before him. The people cheer, relieved that their prince is well, after all, and they throw flowers at his horse's feet as he gallops past them.

It's a half day journey; he only visits the small villages nearest to the manor, but even then, he's nothing but a little winded when they finally return by afternoon. He is watching his horse be taken back to the stables when he feels Cor's presence beside him, and he turns to Cor, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"They were waiting for me," Prompto says, and Cor nods at him.

"They were. Have you seen the hope in their eyes?"

"I did."

"You brought it to them." Cor looks at him with something that Prompto thinks is close to pride. "You can't tell me that's not being more than good enough."

Prompto stares at Cor for a moment, then he smiles, tight lipped, but not lonely. Hopeful, happy. "Yeah," he eventually says, looking back at the closed gates leading outside. "Yeah. You're right."

\--

_noct, i just realised i'm going to be oracle!!! i mean, we all know how i am going to be oracle since like we were kids like how we know you're gonna be king but now i'm just realising this is something that's really happening. i didn't, you know, think i'm going to make it this far after all what happened, but now i'm glad i'm actually rambling to you about it now because i'm really nervous????? i mean it's not going to happen until i'm sixteen (gods, that's in two years!!!!) but it's weird anyway? maybe it's because i went out of the manor for the first time in like six years and it got really weird??? good weird? is that even a thing? anyway, there's just so many things i'm feeling right now and i'm definitely doing word vomit right now. oops. that sounds weird now too._

_i just. you know. it's been hard. you know that. i know it hasn't been exactly easy for you too, and now i'm just glad that we both made it this far. I KNOW SAPPY AF but bear with me, noct!!! with cor and with you, everything was more bearable and i'm just. not as lonely as before. i still miss ravus sometimes, and i still have regrets, but now i'm just grateful._

_so when i'm officially oracle, i want to do my best and do something for tenebrae. i'm probably, you know, being overly ambitious here and stuff, and this is just a secret, okay!!!! but i want to find a way to free tenebrae from niflheim. i'm not going crazy, aren't i? it's not impossible 100%?_

_i kind of spent the past six years scared and a little helpless, and before you start feeling guilty again like you always do whenever i write to you about my feelings i want you to know that!! its!! not!!! your!! fault!!! or!! king!!! regis'!!! OKAY!!!!!!! we've been doing this for years even! get over it like how i'm over it, and i totally got sidetracked there._

_anyway as i was saying, i think i'm over with being helpless. i want to do something to get away from this, you dig? not just for tenebrae too but for the whole world._

_king of light, bro, you getting what i'm trying to say here?_

\--

_why did you write so long did you expect me to read your word vomit? because you're right. i read it all at 2 am. you and umbra are the letter equivalent of 'psst, are you awake? i have somthing philosophical to tell you' i hate you_

_but i know what youre trying to get at, even if i got confused by your messy train of thought. i get it, and you know what? let's do it._

_oracle of light, dude, i got you_

_ps: tell umbra not to crash through my window at 2 am again. i had to explain to aranea i wasn't playing baseball in my bedroom_

\--

Eight years go by so fast.

Prompto still remembers how his world immediately turned to darkness in just a blink, and how desperate he was to keep the dying light still alive. It was snuffed out, in the end, when Ravus disappeared, but Cor and Noct brought it back alive---and they've been nurturing that light together ever since.

Now that he is going to be officially recognised as the Oracle, he likes to think he has more other means to keep the fire going.

He stands in his dressing room, staring at himself on the full body mirror attached to one of his closets. With his hands on his hips, Prompto studies himself as he moves here and there, watching as the loose clothing that is his ceremonial robes move along with him. His ceremonial robes aren't anything flashy, but they flow along with him as he moves, almost like water. Lined with gold and cascading down like waterfall, the Oracle white robes make him look graceful, though he knows he's anything but that. Prompto has a feeling that the robes will end up emphasising that fact.

Despite the overflow of cloth, his arms are bare, not even a golden bracelet to match the hints of gold in his clothes. All it takes is for Prompto to realise it, then he's moving out of his dressing room and into his room, cloth lightly flowing as he moves, and he opens the drawer on his nightstand. There, neatly folded beside his old camera, is Ravus' torn white cloth, and he fishes it out of the drawer and unfolds it, staring at it for a second.

Prompto smiles. "Well, it's not like wearing two mementos is a bad idea." And he ties the torn cloth around his right bicep, before flexing dramatically in front of the mirror by his study table, just because. Cor decides it's the perfect time to enter Prompto's room, and Cor stares at him as he freezes on the spot, eyes wide at Cor.

"…Am I meant to check out those guns?" Cor dryly says, and Prompto sheepishly chuckles as he drops his arms to his side.

"Haha, no."

"Well, it's not like you have any to show, anyway."

Cor ignores Prompto's pout, eyeing the cloth tied around his bicep, but he doesn't comment on it. "It's time to go. Are you ready?"

Prompto straightens, levelling Cor a look, and he nods, walking towards Cor. "Yeah," he says. "It's just, what was it, _a silly formality_ , anyway."

Cor smirks, leading Prompto out of his room and into the hallways. "Exactly. The real thing comes after that."

"What? The whole cleansing the world of the Scourge?"

"No. The Oracle of the prophecy is meant to guide the King of Light. How do you think you'll go about it?"

Prompto raises his eyebrows at Cor. "The prophecy is in motion," he tells Cor. "Slowly, but surely, like the Scourge. That, I know, but I don't know anything else."

They stop in front of the grand doors leading outside of the manor, to the carriage waiting to bring Prompto to the altar of the ceremony, and Cor looks at him, one hand pressed against the hard wood and ready to push it open.

"You'll know," he says, and it reminds Prompto of the time he was sitting in his chair in the dining hall, asking Cor about the prophecy. "After all, it's now time."

\--

Cor is right about the ceremony being a silly formality, after all. Before he shows himself to the public, for the first time in his entire life, Prompto sees the trident, the weapon bestowed by Bahamut upon the first Oracle. He is to hold it with his two hands as he makes his way to the altar, and when Prompto touches it, he feels the steady warmth of magic coming from it, and it makes him feel able to do anything.

It's the only time in the entire ceremony where he feels the touch of magic; everything else is just as boring as Cor made it out to be. What makes it so special still, though, is the amount of people who had come to see his ascension. People of all classes, coming together to celebrate the ascension of the Oracle, and Prompto even sees the press clambering to take a picture of him as he makes his way to the altar.

When the reciting of vows and blessings end, Prompto stands and faces the crowd, his people, standing taller than what he has felt the past eight years, trident in hand, and the cheers of the people make him smile, all teeth and pride on making it this far.

He knows that somewhere, far beyond, his mother was proud of him.

\--

When Prompto gets the photo album from Umbra, he finds a Polaroid photo of a flat screen T.V. pasted on a page. The T.V. shows him smiling confidently at the crowd, holding the Oracle’s trident in a way that only one proficient with such a thing would. There is another photo below it, of Noct and Luna, raising their wineglasses towards the camera and smiling, and Prompto could tell that the drink in their glasses is Sprite. Scribbled below the photos was a short message that fills his chest with warmth and fondness.

_watched your ascension on tv. one of the best days of my life. i’m really proud of you_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompto stands in the middle of the throne room---built upon the cliff where Bahamut blessed the first Oracle---and faces the throne that has been gathering dust. It's a room that hasn't been used for as long as Prompto was hidden from the public, and now, upon his ascension, he stands in the wide, spacious room, along with Cor and few priestesses. Even Umbra is with them. Prompto holds the trident in one hand as he turns to Cor.

"What are we doing here?"

Cor looks at him, his blue eyes shining with magic behind them. "You're here to learn of your true role as the Oracle mentioned in the prophecy. You've always nagged me about it, after all." He redirects his gaze to the throne, and Prompto follows suit. "I told you, it's time."

There's a tug in his gut as Prompto looks on at the dais that holds the throne, one that makes him want to throw the trident to the throne, as if it should be there, not in Prompto's hand. It feels like the right thing to do, if he has to be honest, but instead of throwing it, he walks up the dais, the trident feeling heavier in his hand.

On his third step, he feels something heavy emanating from the throne, trying to pull him in. Magic. _Mana_.

And then, as soon as he thinks that, he quickly realises the magic does not come from the throne, but it surrounds the entire room, its presence pulling at him from all directions, beckoning him _to_ the throne. The trident tells him the same. Perhaps the place where the throne now stands was where the first Oracle stood. There's a reason why the throne was built _here_.

He breathes out a shuddering breath. "It's Bahamut."

"He's been waiting for you just as long as he's been waiting for the True King."

Prompto mulls over Cor's words. Bahamut---and the Crystal---is waiting for him, for over two millennia, just to ensure the Oracle who happens to live with the King ensures the prophecy's fulfilment. To truly set the prophecy in motion, the Astrals themselves shall guide the Oracle, and the Oracle shall guide the King of Light.

Prompto has to briefly wonder for a moment: will it even matter if it wasn't he who had become the Oracle in this time?

There is that same pull in his gut again, and Prompto nods, mostly to himself, and continues to ascend the stairs leading to the throne. Climbing up the dais to the throne feels like wading underwater. Though there's only nothing but faint traces of Bahamut's presence, it's so thick that it feels as if Prompto is going to drown. If being surrounded by only what's left of Bahamut's magic is like this, Prompto has to wonder what it's like to stand in the presence of Bahamut himself. The pulsing of magic is the strongest when Prompto finally stands at the top of the dais, looking at the throne. Intricate gold lined with silver is what makes the throne, with rich velvet cushions befitting royalty, and Prompto takes a moment to consider its grandness before finally sitting down, one hand tracing the curves and hollows carved onto the armrest as he leans back.

There, from this height, are Cor and the other priestesses involved in the ceremony, his subjects, bowed in front of him as he has taken his place in the throne, and this--- _this_ is what a king sees in throne.

Prompto doesn't sit here as king, though; he sits as a servant to the gods, to carry their will, and without further ado, he brings his heavy trident in front of him, two hands holding it firmly as the sound of one tip hitting against the polished marble floor echoes throughout the room. Prompto's voice echoes afterwards, loud and clear.

"I'm here," he says in the steady lull of magic. He feels it react to him. The trident feels warm. "Show me what I have to do."

This is what he gets: something that he can't make sense of, at first. What he gets is like an unfinished footage, scratchy and undecipherable at best. He sees a burgundy-haired man with light that glows gold in the tips of fingers, then a blink later, the golden light is gone, replaced by a blackness that oozes out of the man fingers. He _knows_ that man. Another blink, and Prompto is standing in an altar surrounded by the raging ocean, Altissia in ruins. Prompto turns behind him, then he feels pain in his abdomen. He shuts his eyes tight, feeling the pain subsiding just as quickly as he breathes, and when he opens them again, he sees an obsidian ring worn by a queen---the Ring of the Lucii, his mind helpfully supplies---and he watches as the queen quickly withers, then there's a king wearing it, then another, then another, then it's King Regis, his features older than what Prompto remembers, older than he _should_ be, and---

Prompto finds himself standing in a ruined throne room. At the top of the too tall platform is a throne, the Crystal hanging above it, and sitting in the throne is a man older than Prompto, dirty and tired, yet his eyes burn with determination and, at the very edges, are solemn with resignation.

The man holds a sword against the ground. Worn in one of the man's fingers is the Ring of the Lucii, and Prompto knows who he is.

 _Kings of Lucis_ , Noctis says, _come to me---_

Prompto gasps, lurching forward and off the throne, and he catches a glimpse of the trident clattering down the steps before being caught by one of the priestesses on standby. Words that he doesn't want in his head make themselves known.

_Many has sacrificed for the King, so the King must sacrifice for all._

Prompto doesn't move from the floor, even after Cor tries to snap him out of it. He holds his head in his hands, eyes wide, staring down in despair as one word repeats itself in his head, over and over again.

_Why, why, why._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A FEW THINGS TO NOTE:
> 
> \- about cor, i roughly followed the canon timeline here. according to this [ mofo](https://ff15wiki.com/wiki/Timeline), shiva went and launched an attack on the empire after tenebrae had fallen under niff rule. shiva woke a year after the attack, but for the sake of being able to inflict suffering on prompto (haha), cor went off literally the day after the attack. a mistake on cor's part, but, well, cor is just an unknowing astral. the fuck should he know about what to do with sad human children? the resulting battle obviously resulted in cor's defeat, but not without subjugating almost the entire niff army. it wasn't completely a loss for cor.
> 
> \- i'm honestly wondering about luna and the whole "prophecy" thing.
> 
> did she know the details of the prophecy? of what it required of her and noctis? did she know that she had to die to set the prophecy in motion? considering her whole "i'm not afraid of dying" talk in kingsglaive, i have a feeling that she did, but what about of noct's fate? can you imagine her, twelve/thirteen year old luna, telling eight year old noctis about the prophecy, knowing full well that this fucking kid, so wide eyed and innocent, had to die for the sake of eliminating a plague that the gods themselves may as well be perfectly capable of destroying? it's fucked up.
> 
> final fantasy 15 fucked me up.
> 
> and the next chapter is where prompto and luna's differences start interfering with everything: luna is driven by her sense of obligation as the oracle; prompto is driven by his _need_ to survive. i guess that's their stark differences as oracles: luna is painfully selfless, and prompto is painfully selfish, to a degree that it interferes with everything the astrals planned.
> 
> i just wish we saw more of luna growing up. i wanted to see why she decided that following her calling as oracle is the only thing out there to do.
> 
> there could've been other choices, too, maybe one that doesn't end with both her and noct dying.
> 
> i'm salty and sad.


	5. kingsglaive (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tenebrae's prince is freaking weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WEEE!! the new chapter is here! a few notes:
> 
> \- this is 9k almost 10k worth of words, and as expected, i have cut the chapter into two Again  
> \- sorry for any glaring errors I Swear i've reread the entire thing more than twice to see if i got some things wrong  
> \- this is why i need a beta reader  
> \- i still can't find the proper voice for nyx. i apologise if he's a little off; i'm trying my best i swear sobs
> 
> as usual, this fic is based on chocobaes' fateswap au! please check them out!

"I'm---what?"

"You have heard me, Your Highness. I don't fancy uselessly repeating myself."

Prompto stares at Verstael, who dryly stares back at him. They both sit in Verstael's office, Prompto in one of the gaudy couches situated in front of Verstael's desk. It's never wise to balk at Verstael, but with the news he has brought Prompto, he can't help but, well, not exactly balk at the old Niff---he rubs circles against his left temple instead.

"So, allow me repeat what you have told me," Prompto says, dropping his hand on the armrest and confusedly eyeing the governor. "Niflheim is to enter a peace treaty with Lucis, and as part of the agreement, I will marry Lucis' Crown Prince, Noctis."

"I see I did not need to repeat myself, after all." Prompto _really_ hates when Verstael is being a smartass, which happens to be _all the damn time_. There's a shit-eating smile on the governor's face as he continues speaking. "Why do you seem so shocked? It is good news, no? This senseless war will be put to an end. Your wedding to the Crown Prince will be a celebrated symbol of that."

Prompto continues to stare at Verstael, unimpressed. It's true that the news of war stopping is a very good one, and so does the wedding, for far more personal reasons than Prompto is willing to admit, but he has doubts about this treaty Niflheim proposed to Lucis. To begin with, Niflheim, proposing peace? Prompto would eat Alena's pumpkin soup first before Niflheim would do such a thing as offer _peace_.

He doesn't say any of that, though. It's far more trouble than he can handle. "You sure the wedding isn't a ploy to end both our bloodlines?" Prompto says instead. "Neither of us can, you know, exactly bear a child."

Verstael breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and very, very amused. "Science and technology are not so behind to not give you and the Crown Prince a means to produce an heir, Your Highness." There's something in his smile that makes Prompto shiver and shrink a little in his seat. He knows Verstael dabbled on the infamous Project Deathless back in Gralea and worked on the creation of MTs. The thought makes Prompto think of baby MTs, and--- _ugh_ , focus, _focus_.

"I...suppose you're right," Prompto finally says, and Verstael nods at him approvingly, shit-eating smile still in place.

"Well, you may have been given the right to meddle with Tenebrae's affairs, but never the right to refuse us," Verstael says, tilting his head to the side. It annoys Prompto. "Everything is in order: you'll receive your ring, as well as the sketches for your wedding robes, tomorrow. Your designer expects you to send back the design of your choice as well as your measurements three days before the treaty signing. The wedding will be held in Insomnia, in a week. A few days after the treaty is signed."

Prompto blinks. "A week? Isn't that too soon? What about the planning? The treaty itself?"

"I don't see why this is a problem to you," Verstael says. "Like I said, everything is in order, and the faster the treaty is signed and you are wed to Prince Noctis, the better. For everyone, don't you agree?"

Although hesitant, Prompto grumbles his agreement. "Very well," Prompto says, and he fully stands up, smoothing his pants. "I expect details on the trip, however."

Verstael completely ignores him, flipping through papers that Prompto is a hundred percent sure he already read. That means Prompto is dismissed, then, and after wishing Verstael another bad day, Prompto finally saunters out of the office, the stationed imperial guard closing the doors behind him as he steps out. He breathes in the nice, non-Verstael air and sighs, making his way back to his own office as he cheerfully greets the passing servants.

The past few years since his ascension wasn't much different; as expected, Niflheim did not let go of Tenebrae upon Prompto's ascension as Oracle, claiming that sixteen isn't yet the age in which a king could rule his kingdom. Two more years, they said, and now Prompto is twenty; they're still here. Prompto isn't disappointed; he's known this is bound to happen all along.

What _is_ different, though, is that despite Niflheim maintaining its rule on Tenebrae, Prompto found himself more involved in state affairs: first was being allowed in meetings, then being able to have a say in every single thing Verstael decides to do with Tenebrae. It started with Prompto being able to travel all around Niflheim to cleanse the Scourge plaguing the empire, and soon enough it turned to an arrangement Prompto happily abuses; in the two short years since he was given a place in ruling Tenebrae, he had improved the state of living in the farther villages and towns from the manor, had focused more on the people whom Verstael neglected throughout the years, and had annoyed Verstael himself every chance he got. He'd been a thorn in Verstael's side for a good while now, but Prompto knows that's what he all is: an inconvenience. He had done some things, but it isn't enough. As long as Tenebrae is still under Niff rule, it isn't enough.

And now, Prompto realises as he puts a hand over the doorknob to his office and absentmindedly returns a greeting from a stationed guard, if he was to marry Noct so soon, he's expected to leave Tenebrae behind and live in Insomnia. It's what Verstael wants.

 _There could be a workaround_ , Prompto thinks as he opens the door and steps into his office. _I'm sure Noct would help, but the Prince of Lucis helping to hijack the Empire into freeing Tenebrae would be---_

He stops under the doorway to his office, blinking at Cor who is seated in one of the silver seats placed in front of his desk and holding a mug filled with coffee. There is a new stack of paperwork waiting for him on top of the desk. Prompto sighs.

"Hey, Cor," he says.

Cor looks up at him, and after a moment, Cor quirks up a brow. "You look stressed out," he says. "I heard you were meeting with the governor."

"I was." Prompto closes the door behind him, eyeing the thick pile of papers as if it's offending him. Cor follows his gaze, and he shrugs.

"Recent reports about the villages you decided to take responsibility for," Cor explains as Prompto takes quick strides towards the desk. "They got here pretty early."

Prompto drops into his chair, and he spins the chair once. This is why office chairs are always the best. "Got it."

"Coffee?"

Prompto stops at that, and he quickly turns his chair so he's facing Cor. He already put down the mug he was holding on Prompto's desk.

"Caramel mocha," Cor says as Prompto takes the mug. "With three shots of espresso and chilled to your desired temperature."

So that's why Cor was holding the mug. "I thought this was yours."

"I don't drink coffee, nor do I sleep."

Prompto snorts at that, and he can't help his grin when he sips from the mug. _It's so good_. "You know, you're getting better at this. You should totally part-time as a barista."

Cor levels him a stare. "I hope you're joking."

Prompto laughs, and he sets down the mug to start going through the papers, fishing out his glasses from the drawer. Cor watches him go through the papers for a few minutes, and then, "about that meeting with Verstael." Prompto looks up. "Is it about the peace treaty?"

"You know about it?"

"Everyone does now," Cor says. "Informed about the same time as you left to discuss it with the governor, though I believe you know more than the others."

"I know nothing," Prompto grumbles. "Just that I'm getting hitched to Noct in a week." A pause. "And that I'm going to Insomnia."

"Well, no one knows about that," Cor says, and he continues, ignoring the way Prompto widens his eyes at him. "You don't sound too happy about it."

Prompto finally drops the papers with a sigh and takes his mug again. "It's Niflheim, Cor," he says, and he takes another sip. "They don't do things without an ulterior motive, and I doubt peace is that ulterior motive."

"So you don't trust this treaty."

"No."

It's quiet for a moment, Cor frowning at the wall opposite him and Prompto pouting at his coffee, and then he takes a loud slurp from his mug. It resounds throughout the room. Cor redirects his frown at him.

"Lord Prompto."

"I'm _stressed_ out."

Cor rolls his eyes at him. "What do you intend to do now? I doubt they'd listen to you if you refuse the wedding and basically ruin the treaty."

"Verstael totally agrees with you, and besides, I don't want Noct to think I don't wanna marry him. I mean, I _wanna_ , but---" Prompto stops, and he takes a swig from his mug as Cor gives him _that_ look. " _What_ I'm saying is that if they can't force their way into the Wall, then they get the Wall to let them in. Simple as that. I don't know what they want with me and Noct and _weddings_ , but it's just as fishy as everything else, and it'll probably ruin everything I've done the past four years!"

Cor simply leans into his seat as Prompto finishes his rant, fingers laced together. "Alright," Cor says, "so let me repeat my question: what do you intend to do now?"

Prompto blinks at him, then he purses his lips together for a moment, thinking. "Where's Umbra?"

"He just left this morning."

Prompto sinks into his seat. "Then I got nothing until we leave for Insomnia."

Cor taps his fingers against his armrest. "Do you not want to leave Tenebrae yourself to personally warn the king and give Lucis time to call off the treaty?"

To say that the idea isn't tempting is basically Prompto lying, but he shakes his head. "I don't wanna leave Tenebrae if I can," he admits. "I started things here already; I can't leave halfway through." Because he knows that when he finally leaves Tenebrae for Insomnia, one week from now or simply _now_ , he won't be back for gods know how long, and it's enough time for Verstael to ruin every small thing Prompto had so much trouble trying to fix.

The whole thing makes Prompto frustrated. Here he is again, back at square one, but it isn't as if he's been doing anything remarkably useful here in Tenebrae. They're only allowing him to play politics, Prompto knows. At best, he's annoying Verstael. At worst, he's also annoying Verstael. But it's the least he could do for his people. He takes off his glasses to bury his face into his hands with another sigh.

It's only nine in the morning, and he's been sighing a lot already.

"Perhaps it's best to not think about it for now," Cor says, standing up. "Do go through those papers. People will be awaiting your word."

Prompto doesn't look up and simply nods, his face still in his hands. He doesn't hear Cor leave the room; Cor _doesn't_ use doors anymore, but maybe right now that's for the best, because that means no one is going to be knocking on his door for a while, having the impression that Prompto is meeting his Messenger.

Straightening himself in his chair, Prompto reaches for his mug and stares at it. It's a big mug, and Cor almost filled it to the brim. There's still a lot in it, not even half.

"Whatever." And Prompto drinks it all in one, long drink. He's going to need all the coffees he could get, he thinks, all the way until his departure for Insomnia.

\--

Sometimes, there are kids who wonder how their engagement would go. Would it be fairytale-like, with pretty flowers and pretty dresses in a romantic setting? Alright, maybe little girls talk about that more than little boys do, and that is probably good, because Prompto is glad he doesn't have a child version of himself to disappoint.

His engagement day is him groaning onto his work desk and clutching his head, his fifth mug of coffee half-empty. He hasn't slept yet, and it's one in the afternoon.

…At least he's done with his work.

"Are you courting death?" Cor says, standing in front of Prompto's desk. Prompto does not even bother being upset about him appearing without warning and continues to groan. He hears Cor click his tongue. "I told you this thing is toxic."

"Cor, I _need_ coffee to live," Prompto replies, finally lifting his head from his table and squinting at the other. Cor, of all people, should know just how coffee changed his life when he first had it at fifteen. How _dare_ Cor _say_ such a thing about _coffee_. "What are you doing here?"

"A delivery," Cor says as Prompto pulls out his drawer and starts looking for paracetamol to treat his headache with. "I believe you're supposed to be expecting something to---" Cor stops, and he frowns as Prompto downs two tablets with his mug of coffee. He puts the mug down empty. "You want to die."

"No, can't; I just want to get through the day," Prompto replies. The medicine won't kick in immediately, so he keeps squinting at Cor. "What delivery is it?"

"These."

Prompto blinks as Cor sets down a small velvet box and a folder. A moment of staring, then it clicks. "Oh," he finally says, slumping into his office chair. "Oh."

"'Oh,'" Cor dryly replies. "Should I leave you to it, or do you want me to stay and watch you get unnecessarily dramatic over it?"

Prompto tears his gaze away from the box and the folder to make a face at him. "I'm _not_ dramatic," he says. "...But please stay."

So Cor sits down in his usual seat, arms crossed, and Prompto looks down at the box and the folder.

He gets the box first. It's nothing fancy: a plain, red velvet box with gold lining the mouth, but Prompto hesitates to open it. The reality of the situation hasn't completely sunk in yet, but he supposes it's because he completely refused to think about it yesterday, following Cor's advice albeit taken a bit far. Now that he has the box containing his engagement ring inside, Prompto can't help but feel as if the box contains a bomb instead of a ring and he's being held at knifepoint.

Alright, maybe he is a _little_ dramatic.

Prompto looks at Cor, finds that Cor isn't looking at him but at his nails, and looks back at the box. He forces himself to open it.

\---And then he almost drops the cover.

Inside is a ring nothing too extravagant. Though Prompto doesn't know what kind of ring to expect, it isn't this. It's a platinum-brushed ring with milgrain details and polished edges, and picking it up, Prompto finds that its interior has a gold accent. No diamonds or any fancy stone, but simply a piece of metal band reflecting the sunlight.

It's really, really beautiful.

Prompto sniffs as he slips the ring onto his left ring finger. "Cor..."

"What?"

"I'm...I'm getting married..."

"Who isn't dramatic, again?"

"Oh, come on! I should get a pass, Cor. I'm getting _married_ ," Prompto protests with a pout, and Cor snorts at him. Leave it to _Cor_ to ruin the moment.

"Sure," he tells Prompto. "So? How does it feel?"

"What kind of feel? I'm feeling a lot right now," Prompto replies, feeling himself make a small smile, "lots of conflicting feelings. You know, I should be pissed about this whole treaty and engagement, but now it's just..." Prompto shrugs. "I dunno." He looks down at the ring on his finger, nervously twisting it, and Cor raises a brow at him.

"What?"

"Well! It's just..." Prompto sighs, and he feels his cheeks heat up as he thinks over his question. "...You think Noct is wearing his ring, too?"

"I don't see why he won't."

The answer comes so quick and sure, Prompto would throw himself at Cor and cry on him if it wouldn't piss Cor off. Usually, Cor's bluntness is a curse, but this time, it's a blessing for him. Prompto grins at him. "You're the best."

"Normally, you say that when you want to pester me for something," Cor says, "but I suppose right now, I'm meant to take that as sincere?"

"Oh, totally," Prompto replies, and Cor smirks at him. "And I'm always sincere, Cor!"

"Right," Cor dryly says, standing up. "And the folder?"

"Later." Prompto stands, too, and he tries to fix his hair. It's all mussed up from when he shoved his head against his desk. Gotta need a better hair gel for this. He pauses, thinking for a moment, and then, "I'm gonna go and announce the engagement and the treaty today. Go arrange for that, won't you?"

"Of course, Your Highness. Be at the gates quarter to three."

"Got it."

He watches Cor leave the office, surprised that Cor, for once, actually uses the door. Silence overtakes Prompto's office after that, and he looks at the ring on his finger, its polished edges reflecting the light.

An engagement ring, a symbol of the upcoming peace between Lucis and Niflheim, and a symbol of hope for the people. A union not just of him and Noct, but also of the two warring nations. When put that way, maybe this isn't so bad, and Prompto allows himself to think that maybe Niflheim is sincere with their offer of peace.

His life for the past twelve years is testament against his wishful thinking, though. Prompto knows: all of this is a lie, even the ring.

Does Noctis think the same, too?

Prompto shakes his head. Everything is a lie, but not his feelings--- _their_ feelings, and the ring is starting to be a symbol of it, too, and a reminder that finally, after twelve years, they'll meet again.

"...Noct," Prompto says in the silence, looking down at his hands pressed against the desk, "you wearing it too would be the only real thing here."

When Prompto announces the engagement and the peace treaty to his people, it feels as if he's lying through his teeth, but he soldiers on, smiling as the people cheer for their prince, his ring glinting against the sunlight as he presents his hand to everyone, and he determinedly ignores Cor's stare behind him.

\--

The preparation for his departure to Insomnia becomes more than just packing clothes, Prompto finds pretty soon; it also becomes a preparation for his wedding.

Everything in order, my ass.

Though in Verstael's defence, none of the preparation has anything to do with the event itself. Prompto sends the design of his choice as well as his measurements pretty early, and soon enough, he's scrambling to learn how to wear the damn clothes. How to wear it, as in, how to _move_ in it. It turns out to be pretty complicated. To think Prompto chose the simplest design. He wishes he chose none of them instead.

It goes beyond wedding preparations as well. Prompto suffers through meetings with Verstael for briefings about the treaty and for details about the trip, and he learns that hardly anything in the treaty is fair to Lucis. He says that much, and Verstael doesn't care. He also learns that he has to suffer through the entire trip with the Emperor himself, and Prompto thinks he's going to have the worst days of his life.

The days go by like that, and Prompto doesn't get to sit down in his office and do work like he's hoping to before he leaves. At the end of the week, Prompto is standing at the top of the staircase to the manor, watching servants put his stuff into the trunk of his car. They're not much, really: just two small suitcases to last him a week outside of Tenebrae. As he watches them shut the trunk close, Cor steps by his side, watching the servants as one moves to start the car's engine.

"I trust you brought your things that aid your eyesight?"

"Of course. Contacts and glasses. The whole set. I'm doomed if I forget at least one of those."

Cor nods. "I did warn you about reading under poor lighting conditions." Prompto snorts.

"I'm farsighted. That doesn't have anything to do with it."

"It does. Go google it." Cor looks past the car, and his eyebrows raise, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Looks like someone got here just in time."

Prompto follows Cor's gaze, and he gasps. Leisurely trotting past the car then up the stairs is Umbra, the bright yellow album sticking out of his back. He stares intensely at the dog, trying to decide whether he should throw himself down the stairs to meet Umbra immediately or not, but Umbra decides for him as the dog breaks out into a run. Matching the dog's excitement, Prompto kneels down with a pitched yell to greet him, arms outstretched to invite Umbra in.

"Hey, boy!" Prompto happily chirps, hugging Umbra when the dog finally reaches him. Cor bends down to pet Umbra's head with a small smile.

"Lucky he got here just before you leave, isn't it?"

"Yep." Prompto takes the album from Umbra, and he stares at it for a moment. The yellow album is worn from a decade of use and travel it's seen, the stickers Noct and Luna filled the cover with already faded, yet it still holds together. Inside it are lots of good memories, of precious things he held on to for over a decade, and he realises with glee that he'll get to go through the pictures and letters in this book with Noct. For real and in person.

He sighs, flipping the book to the most recent page and looking at the photo pasted there. It's a Polaroid photo of a hand outstretched in the air. It's a little blurry, like it's been taken in haste, and in the background, Prompto can easily make out lights, making him realise it's taken indoors. It's an awful shot, actually, and Prompto almost misses the ring on one finger. Brushed platinum and polished edges, like Prompto's.

Oh, _shit_. Noct is wearing it, too.

His eyes travel from the photo to the short, hastily scribbled message below, and he laughs.

_we're **engaged.**_

The last word is written in bold letters and with numerous underlines, obviously making a point. Add in the ring and the way the photo was taken, the sentiment behind the message is pretty clear to Prompto: Noct is happy with the engagement.

"Oh, man," Prompto says, closing the book and pressing it against his face in an attempt to hide his grin. His ears are red. "Screw the treaty and everything else. I think I can die now."

"Considering what you told me a few years back, that really worries me," Cor flatly says, clearly unimpressed. "Are you going to reply?"

"I _can't_ not reply." Prompto fishes out his digital camera from his pocket, grinning at the chocobo keychain hanging from it as he turns it on, and Cor frowns.

"You're bringing it there?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Prompto raises the camera in front of his face, thinking of how he should go with his picture. A selfie? Or maybe a picture of his ring, too, and he should make it a point to make it look _really_ good, just to make fun of Noct's shot.

"If you're going to take pictures of Insomnia, I think you should bring your DSLR instead." Cor eyes his camera suspiciously. "Also, that thing is over a decade old. You're not worried it's going to die on you while you're there?"

"Eh." Prompto stands up and lifts his left hand against the light. He snaps a picture. Perfect. "She won't betray me like that, Cor. We've gone through thick and thin."

"That's a very old piece of technology. I think betrayal is out of the question."

"Oh, Cor. You wouldn't understand." Prompto laughs when Cor shrugs with an exasperated look. He looks at the preview in his camera. The light reflects against the ring just right, with a soft flare that isn't hard on the eyes. His hand is off centre, the background blurred out and the foreground and subject---which is the ring---crisp and clear. Wow, he's getting really good at this. He might have done better if he's using his other camera, but this should suffice. "I'm gonna print this."

"Don't take too long," Cor says, nodding at the car's direction. "Your escort is waiting on the train station outside of Tenebrae. You may be a royal passenger, but you still have to follow the train schedule.

"Yeah, I know. Be there in a jiffy!"

It only takes a minute or two to have the photo printed, and then soon enough, he's already giving the book back to Umbra, who happily takes it.

"There," Prompto says, and he pats Umbra's head. "Be careful there, buddy. I'm gonna give you lots of treats when I see you in Insomnia."

He leaves Tenebrae with his people bidding him goodbye, wishing him good luck and a safe journey. It's dizzying in a good way, a good kind of sensation that makes him think that even if he is leaving Tenebrae, he is still going to somewhere good. To somewhere better. To Noctis.

Prompto closes his eyes, and he leans against his seat. As the car crosses the bridge to the train station, he hears the people crowding the bridge, cheering. _For the future, for the peace. To the Astrals, to Tenebrae, to Eos._ His small camera feels heavy in his pocket, but in a good way. It's good. Everything is good---at least on the surface.

Prompto prays that his doubts on the treaty are unfounded and wrong. _Please_.

He's so tired of losing already. Can't he have this?

\--

The trip to Lucis doesn't turn out to be as disastrous as Prompto thinks it would be, if he ignores Emperor Aldercapt every time he speaks during dinner.

The ship they're in looks like another Magitek engine on the outside, but the inside is as extravagant as a first class airship. The dining hall they're in is filled with nothing but gaudy tapestries and ornaments, accents of red and gold here and there, the colour of the Empire. Prompto sticks out like a sore thumb in here, with his white and gold scheme that clashes with the deep reds of the place.

He doesn't really care about that, though. The problem is that Emperor Aldercapt doesn't shut up.

"I'm surprised that your caretaker is not here with you, Oracle," Aldercapt is saying, and Prompto stops in the middle of slicing his steak. He looks up, at the emperor who sits at the far end of the table. Emperor Aldercapt is looking at him with a smile, and Prompto smiles back at him.

"Likewise," Prompto replies, polite and reserved and not very Prompto, "but I have no other choice, Your Majesty. Someone I trust has to be left behind to look after my home for me."

Aldercapt nods, but there's a look of feint hurt in his face, and it takes Prompto a lot of willpower not to frown. And not to stand up and strangle the old man then and there. "Verstael is there, however. Does he not run Tenebrae to your liking?"

Honestly? Prompto wants to set Verstael on fire, but he can't say that, unfortunately. It's why political meetings like this suck the youth out of him. "Oh, no, I don't mean to imply that. I simply mean that I trust Cor to keep things more manageable for Sir Verstael."

The emperor nods, and he looks down at his dinner. "I see. That's good to hear, then. I personally chose Verstael to look after Tenebrae after...all that's happened. He's very competent, and I trust his judgement," he says. Prompto feels an eye twitching, and he decides it's time to look away from Aldercapt and continue slicing his steak.

"Then I suppose I should take this chance to thank you," Prompto says through his teeth. He stabs his cut meat with his fork. "...I wouldn't know where Tenebrae would be after my mother's passing."

Prompto doesn't have to look at Aldercapt to know that he's _beaming_ at what Prompto said. _Good, make him like me_. Who knows? Maybe all he has to do to get Tenebrae back is to be in Emperor Aldercapt's good graces. He'll wash his mouth with soap later, but if it will make things a bit easier for him...

"I'm sure you're wondering why it is just the two of us dining in this hall. There are more people in the delegation than us, after all," Aldercapt says, snapping him out of his thoughts. Prompto couldn't care less about the lack of people here, though. "It's because I don't find any of my subjects _worthy_ of dining with me."

Prompto looks up at him, and he makes a show of humbled surprise. Etiquette training really helps in faking reactions. "I'm honoured you think of me as someone worthy of your presence, Your Majesty."

"Of course." Aldercapt laces his fingers together, steak remaining half-eaten in his plate as he smiles a toothed grin at Prompto. "The Oracle is worthy of such privilege; the Astrals' blessing runs in your veins, after all."

Prompto isn't sure what that means, so he gives Aldercapt a tight-lipped smile.

Dinner finishes uneventfully. Most of the time, Prompto tunes Aldercapt out, who wouldn't stop talking about the Empire's accomplishments. It's easy to indulge the rambling old man with just a smile and a nod until Aldercapt excuses himself. Prompto happily takes it as cue to leave the dining hall as well. He can't wait to get out of the hall and as far away from the emperor as possible.

The hallways are just as gaudy and popping with red as the dining hall. The floors are carpeted with lush red, golden chandeliers hang on the ceiling, and intricate wallpapers decorate the walls. Paintings of exquisite value are hanged, creepy MTs stand guard every which way, and as Prompto walks down the dimly lit hallway on the way to his room, he can't help but feel that this place would've been perfect for a horror game.

"Ah, what a coincidence."

Prompto jumps, and he spins to find _Chancellor Ardyn_ , of all people, with his knowing smirk and awful hat. Prompto can't help the frown on his face.

"Good evening, Your Highness." Ardyn pauses, studying him. "You don't look so pleased."

"Kindly fuck off," Prompto immediately says. "I don't remember giving you permission to speak to me."

Ardyn makes a face that Prompto thinks may be hurt, and he places a hand over his chest. "Ah, don't be like that. You wound me. I simply wish to converse." He smiles at Prompto, who continues to frown at him. "You have grown quite spectacularly, Oracle. A fine young prince, if I do say so myself. Prince Noctis is a lucky man, indeed."

Prompto narrows his eyes at Ardyn, and he awkwardly nods his head, taking a step back. "Sure, thanks. I think so, too," he replies. "Bye."

As Prompto turns away to leave, Ardyn speaks again, and it makes him stop. "Do you still think it was I who took your precious Ravus?"

Prompto sighs. Ardyn _really_ wants to talk if he is bringing Ravus up. He turns to look at Ardyn, looking unimpressed. "I'm not sure if you still want to tell me you didn't do anything. You're, what is it, _a man of no consequence_. Whatever that means." He waves a dismissive hand. "I don't care anymore."

He turns away from Ardyn once again, to leave for good, and he ignores Ardyn when he speaks again.

"Do look after your precious belongings! It would be such a heartbreak if you lose any more."

When Prompto gets to his room, he makes a beeline to one of the suitcases, zipping it open and fishing out a small, black box. He opens it, and he sighs when he finds Ravus' locket and white cloth still in there. He takes both out of the box, and he wears the locket around his neck and stuffs the white cloth into his pocket, where he's keeping his camera.

Prompto decides he is _not_ going anywhere without these with him. Ardyn Izunia is such an _asshole_.

\--

The rest of the trip is uneventful. Prompto avoids Ardyn at all costs, he puts up with Aldercapt, and he spends the rest of his time chilling in his room. When the ship passes by Accordo, and eventually Altissia, Prompto is wowed by the winding canals and the sprawling sea of blue, and he takes pictures of it.

Eventually, he gets bored of it all.

He's not sure how he misses the moment they enter Lucis and near Insomnia, because he's going through the photos he had taken during the trip when he hears a knock on his door. When he opens it, a servant stands attentive outside. "Your Highness, it's time to prepare; we are to land in Insomnia in two hours."

Prompto balks at him. "What? When did we get so close to Insomnia?"

"Just recently."

Prompto ignores the servant's grating answer in favour of pressing his face against the windowpane in his room, and true enough, in the distance is the walled city of Insomnia. He could see the shimmering magic of the Wall, taking the shape of a dome so high up the sky. It's the shield that has protected Insomnia from Niflheim, and now Niflheim is about to be let through the same shield.

Prompto frowns, and he shakes his head as he pushes himself off the windowpane. He turns to the servant, who remains standing outside his room and awaiting orders.

"Alright," he says, desperate to get his mind off dangerous thoughts. "Help me get dressed."

He stands with the rest of the delegates at the closed mouth of the Magitek engine as it lands. The lowermost floor of the engine is far different from the upper floors: it looks more like a mechanised parking lot than anything else, with the dim red lights above them and cables and pipes attached to the walls. Prompto determinedly ignores the deactivated MTs lining up the walls.

He feels the engine land, and a few seconds later, the mouth of the engine opens, and bright, white light floods in.

The first thing he sees are the _people_ flooding around their ship, and soldiers keep these people at bay. Cameras flash, and there are indecipherable yelling. Slowly walking out of the engine, Prompto realises they are in a runway, situated not far from the tall, grey walls that separate Insomnia from the rest of the world, but if he looks on ahead and past the crowd, he can see the endless urban landscape of Insomnia, going as far as his eyes can see. He can see tall skyscrapers in the distance, winding bridges, and though he shouldn't hear them in this distance and the noise, Prompto thinks he can hear cars. He presses his lips together and looks down as he is led away from the sea of people closing in behind him, feeling overwhelmed by what he sees; Noct is right: Insomnia is _overwhelming_.

And thinking about Noct, he realises it's not too long now until Prompto finally sees him.

His fingers brush against his engagement ring. Taking a deep breath, Prompto finally looks up, meeting the people and the camera flashes with a smile, and there it is: the people calling out to him.

_It's the Oracle._

\--

Prompto snores so loudly that he wakes himself up.

He doesn't remember when exactly he fell asleep, but he jerks awake when he hears a loud noise that he has an inkling feeling is him snoring, and he straightens himself, blinking groggily as he looks here and there and trying to figure out where he is, exactly. It takes him a moment to drink in his surroundings: cramped space, white leather seats, and...oh---he's in a car. Wait, that's right: they're in Insomnia, on the way to the Citadel by King Regis' request, and by the looks of it, the car is stuck in traffic. Prompto rubs his eyes. Ah, _crap_ , his contacts aren't properly in place now. As if they've ever been in the first place anyway.

"Why aren't we there yet?" Prompto says, lifting his head to squint at his driver through the rearview mirror---and stops. Though with a bit difficulty, he sees that the man in the driver's seat is not the same man who was sitting in there when Prompto first climbed in. The first thing he notices are the braids, then his beard, then the hard, greyish blue eyes. Prompto is unfamiliar with his uniform.

The man looks at Prompto through the rearview window, too, and though his face is perfectly schooled to a neutral expression, there's something in the way the man eyes him that tells Prompto he's trying <i>not</i> to laugh at him.

"Apologies, Your Highness," the man says. His voice is completely composed. "Heavy traffic is a common thing here in Insomnia, but we'll get to the Citadel in time."

"Oh, okay." A beat of silence. Prompto blinks, trying to see if it will put his contacts back in place. No, it doesn't. He'd been wearing contacts for years; he should've known this. "Uh, when did you kick my driver out?"

The man's eyebrows shoot up at that, then there's the faintest trace of a smirk: amusement kept in check. "Not 'kicked,' Your Highness," he says. "I was assigned to be your guard and escort you to His Majesty. You were asleep when we switched back in the intersection past the runway."

Prompto sagely nods, and he finally hangs his head down to take off his contacts and put them back in. "I see..." There's silence as Prompto tries to put his contacts back. It takes him six tries before he gives up on it, deciding to dump the pair into the trash. He can deal with this until he gets his hands on his spare. "What's your name?" Prompto asks as he looks up at the driver. "I'm Prompto Argentum."

"Everyone kind of knows that, Your Highness," the man says, and his eyes return to the road when the traffic finally moves. "Nyx Ulric," he immediately adds.

"Nice to meet you!" Prompto chirps. "Take good care of me and all that, yeah? And, uh..." He squints at Nyx, and his voice drops low when he speaks again. "Don't...Don't mention to anyone that I snore in my sleep, okay? What do you think the people will say? 'Oh, gosh, the Crown Prince's fiancee _snores_. Very sad.'"

Nyx's reservation cracks, and he finally smirks, looking at Prompto through the rearview mirror for a second before returning his gaze on the road. "Yeah, well, apologies for this, Highness, but it is embarrassing. It's a feat even I can't do." He pauses, turning the car to a corner and to a wide road, then he smirks. "It's good blackmail, though."

Prompto grins, and he lightly punches the driver's seat. _"Treason."_

"You're not my prince," is Nyx's quick answer, smirk still in place, and Prompto decides Nyx is pretty cool.

For the next hour, Prompto is pressed against the window of the car, marvelling at the sights Insomnia has to offer. For someone who has lived his entire life surrounded in greenery, the urban landscape takes Prompto aback. Everywhere he looks, he sees towering skyscrapers and long, winding flyovers, different billboards with impressive images and---gods, _so many people_. The population in Insomnia is twice, maybe even _thrice_ , the population in Tenebrae, and Tenebrae is a _kingdom_. Prompto sighs, leaning his head against the glass. Insomnia is just as beautiful as Noct says it is.

"This place is amazing," Prompto says.

"You missed the really impressive sights, though," Nyx replies, "you were asleep when we crossed the bridge connecting the west gate to the main district. You could see half the city there."

Prompto whips his head to the driver's seat so fast he gives himself vertigo. "...Seriously?"

"Yes. It's a shame you wouldn't see it again until you leave Insomnia, Your Highness."

Prompto huffs, leaning against his seat as he fishes out his camera. He turns it on and returns his attention outside. As the car speeds on, there is nothing but a blur of colours, but then something catches Prompto's eye, and he raises his camera and tries to snap a picture of the towering statue holding a trident that is embedded onto one of the buildings.

The flash is on, though, and Prompto curses. The light reflected on the glass, and the resulting picture is just white.

"Language, Your Highness."

"Ha ha." Prompto opens the settings menu in his camera, and he finds that the flash is set to automatic. "What the---I've never set the flash to auto!"

"Well, it's useful in the dark, annoying in the light, and you're in a tinted car."

"Photographers never use flash, just so you know."

Nyx looks at him through the rearview window, raising his eyebrows at him as if to say _really?_ "So you're a _photographer_ , Your Highness?"

"You talk like we royalty can't have hobbies," Prompto says, and he feints hurt. He sees Nyx breathe out a soft, amused chuckle at that. "Look, man, I may be a prince, but I'm a photographer at heart. I can totally make you look handsome with just a handful of angles. No photoshop. All natural. That's how good I am."

Nyx smirks. "Like you're saying I'm not already?"

"Well." Prompto stares at him through the rearview mirror. In this close distance, he can't properly make out Nyx's face. "You need a bit more work. You're a little blurry."

"Wow, Your Highness."

\--

Tenebrae's prince is freaking weird.

He talks to Nyx like they've been friends since forever, after the initial awkwardness that lasted, what, maybe less than three minutes? And it's coupled with him trying to make his contacts work. It takes Nyx off guard at first, to be spoken to so familiarly by someone who's royalty and whom he just met, but perhaps the fact that Prince Prompto snored himself awake peeled away any intimidation any royal would initially have. It was hilarious, and it definitely made an impression to Nyx. He can get used to the prince.

In fact, he already got used to him.

By the time they arrive at the Citadel, Prompto has completely talked Nyx's ear off, to the point of exhaustion. Every single thing he's seen so far completely impresses him, and somehow he feels the need to tell Nyx all about it. The Citadel is the most impressive Insomnia has, and when Prompto finally sees the building, the Crystal's magic glittering a bright purple from the top of the tower and onto the sky, it won't surprise Nyx if he reacts accordingly.

"Oh, gods," Prompto breathes out, his bright blue eyes reflecting the shimmering purple light. The reaction is far more solemn than Nyx expects. "It's the Crystal."

"Yep," Nyx says, closing the door behind Prompto and tossing the key to the attendant who shuffled down to greet them. "The source of the king's magic and all that."

Prompto nods, and he finally tears his eyes away from the beam of light to look at Nyx. "I guess it is."

Nyx blinks at him, surprised at the sudden solemness in the other's voice, but he figures it's not in his place to say anything. He gestures in front of him, towards the stairs leading into the Citadel. "After you, Highness."

The lobby is, predictably, not as empty as it normally is. It's grandiosely decorated, flourished with white and blue flowers. Upon setting foot into the lobby, Prompto immediately stops, his breath hitching, and Nyx stops, too, right behind him.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Prompto says, and he makes his way to the nearest stand of blue flowers, neatly manicured fingers gingerly touching the petals. "Sylleblossoms," he says.

Nyx stares at the flowers for a moment before looking at him. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with them," Nyx admits. "Never seen them before, even."

"That's fine," Prompto says, letting go of the flowers and returning to Nyx. "They're native to Tenebrae, so I'm not surprised. What I'm surprised about is that they managed to import these here without any problems. They're delicate 'lil things, you know?"

"You seem to know a lot about them."

"Well, they just so happen to be my favourite flowers." Prompto smiles cheekily at him. "I take care of some myself back in Tenebrae, and I lovingly call them _my babies_."

Nyx snorts.

Their conversation is cut short when they are approached by another attendant, welcoming Prompto to the Citadel and telling them that he'll lead them to the throne room. Prompto eagerly nods, and he trails behind the attendant as he leads Prompto to the elevator, Nyx following behind them.

As the elevator doors close, Prompto immediately falls silent, the cheerful aura that he's been maintaining the past two hours disappearing. While they barely know each other, Nyx figures it's easy to tell when something seems to bother the prince. As unfitting as it is for a royal, one who is supposed to rule, even, Prompto looks to be someone who wears his heart on his sleeve.

Nyx thinks it's not a bad trait, and with the way the prince easily befriended him, it makes him trust Prompto a little more.

A familiar _ding_ resounds in the elevator, signalling that they finally reached their destination, and the doors open. Nyx watches as Prompto straightens himself from the lazy slouch he has going until a while ago, as his hands curl into loose fists, and as his steps turn from a meek, easygoing stride to a more sure and purposeful one; Nyx thinks he just watched Prompto slip into the princely persona most expects to see him as.

It is kind of impressive seeing it.

They stand in front of the black marble doors leading to the throne room, and the attendant opens the doors for Prompto, stepping aside as Prompto enters the room and announcing the prince's presence.

_"His Royal Highness, Prince Prompto Argentum of Tenebrae."_

\--

The visions were right.

Prompto stands at the foot of the steps to the throne, chin up as he stares at the king of Lucis, eyes drinking in his features.

Lines under his eyes and over his forehead, age where it should not be, streaks of white on his hair, a brace and a cane. This is King Regis now, far from the youthful yet mature king he had spent months with in Tenebrae.

The visions were right, and Prompto forces a smile, because he really, truly is glad to finally see him, but Prompto knows his eyes betray the misery he feels upon seeing the old king like this. "It's been so long, Your Majesty."

And King Regis smiles at him, soft and kind. Prompto feels a sting in his heart. "Yes," King Regis says. "It truly has."

King Regis beckons to him to climb the first set of stairs, so Prompto does, his footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors, and when he reaches the end of the stairs, he allows his eyes to wander around, looking for _him_ \---Noctis. He isn't here, so Prompto asks.

"Noct," he says, without hesitation. It comes so natural to him, rooted deep from the memories of his childhood, and he sees the way the old king lights up at the nickname. "Is he not here?"

As soon as King Regis lights up, it disappears. "No, my dear," he replies, his expression rueful. "He is not." And silence takes over for a moment, Prompto nodding defeatedly. _Not here..._

"I am too old to fight this war," King Regis says, and Prompto looks at him. "I have no other choice but to accept Niflheim and their treaty, but even then, I had hoped that the wedding could be held somewhere not here, somewhere safe. I sent one of my Glaives to you, but---

"It's not yet too late," King Regis says, insistent, and Prompto purses his lips. "I could ready an escort. Please, Prompto, go to my son."

There's a stillness in the throne room, as if everyone has held their breath while Prompto makes his decision. The offer is tempting, _too_ tempting, because it makes Prompto realise that King Regis, too, doesn't trust this treaty. He could leave Insomnia and the possible dangers behind and be reunited with Noctis after so long. They deserve that much.

But Prompto knows the consequences, and he knows his circumstances.

It's an easy answer, so Prompto shakes his head.

"No," Prompto says, and it hurts him to see the way King Regis' face falls at his reply, but he continues. "Wherever I go, the Empire will follow. It will just put Noct in danger. I can't---" Prompto pauses, and he shakes his head again, looking down. "We can't have that. It's not..." He shrugs, looking back at the king with a small, melancholic smile. "It's not part of my job description. My job is to see that Noct fulfils his destiny, to lead him there, not get him into trouble."

King Regis remains silent for a moment, looking at him with pained eyes, but he doesn't look away. Eventually, King Regis asks, "and what of your destiny?"

"My destiny," Prompto starts, "is mine and only mine to make, Your Majesty." He pauses, and the smile he gives King Regis is surer, more confident. "And, truth be told, I firmly believe the same for Noctis."

King Regis shakes his head, and Prompto could tell that he is distraught at Prompto's reply. "What has been set in stone cannot be changed, Prompto."

King Regis _knows_ , just as he knows. His hands shake at the realisation, but he wills them to stay still. If Prompto couldn't bear the knowledge these past four years, how could King Regis deal with it? How long had he been grieving his son's eventual demise?

"Yes," Prompto replies, his voice hard and determined, "but we can strike the stone to pieces."

The silence is heavy, and, somehow, it's suddenly hard to breathe. King Regis gives him a long, searching look, his eyes asking questions Prompto can only hope to answer, until eventually, he closes his eyes in a solemn nod.

"Very well," King Regis says, and he gives Prompto a sincere smile, one that Prompto decides to keep in the deepest corners of his memories. Those two words mark the end of that conversation. "Shall I see you in the gathering tomorrow night?"

Prompto nods, in a way that is far too eager for a prince like him to exhibit, but he has already shown far worse things than nodding vigorously. "Of course," he says, "I'll be there before you do, Your Majesty," he adds with a grin.

"We will see about that."

The drive from the Citadel and to the hotel he's staying throughout his visit in Insomnia is quiet. Nyx does not ask questions, not even sending him questioning looks, which he is grateful for until he remembers Nyx isn't even allowed to speak to him in the first place. He looks at Nyx through at rearview mirror, staring and willing Nyx to look at him, too, and then Nyx sighs.

"What?"

Prompto smiles at him. "Thanks for going against orders and talking to me."

Nyx snorts, then, shaking his head. "Didn't know that's something to be thanked about."

"Um _, yeah?_ My whole trip's gonna suck if my driver is a stuck up asshole."

Nyx breathes out a laugh, and then the car pulls into a driveway in front of what Prompto thinks could be the hotel he's staying in. A hotel porter is already there, waiting for them.

"Well," Nyx says, opening the door and stepping aside to let Prompto out. "I guess it's worth getting in trouble for."

It isn't as if Prompto is lying to begin with. Noctis may not be here, but he's seen King Regis, knows the king is still doing fine, and he made a new friend. Considering, well, _everything_ , it's more than he knows he'll ever get.

So Prompto grins at Nyx.

\--

Insomnia at night is really, really beautiful. The party is held at the topmost floor of the hotel where Prompto and the rest of the delegation is staying. An orchestra plays in the background, playing a solemn song; fireworks shoot up the sky, sprinkling the dark canvas above them with flashes of gold; and below them is the city of Insomnia, lights glittering like stars. Prompto sighs as he steps beside Nyx, who's standing very, very still, arms folded behind him.

"This place is so romantic," Prompto says.

"Not now, Your Highness. Guard duty."

Prompto glances at Nyx. He's not even looking at Prompto, staring straight ahead instead. Prompto grins.

"Yeah? Wouldn't that mean I'm pretty much safest around here, then?"

Nyx gives him a quick glance before looking straight ahead again. Then he mumbles, "smartass."

Prompto lightly punches his arm, and then it's quiet between them. Prompto watches the fireworks for a moment before fishing out his camera. He fiddles with it for a moment, then he takes a step away from Nyx before raising his camera and taking a shot. The flash is on.

_"Hey."_

"Flash is annoying, isn't it?" Prompto says. "And flash makes people ugly."

Nyx finally gives him a long look, then he looks down at his camera and makes a face at it. "That thing looks like ancient crap."

"Are you supposed to say that to a prince?"

"And you put a chocobo keychain on it?"

"I _love_ chocobos," Prompto says in defence, shoving his camera defensively in his pocket. "Dude, that was rude." A pause. "Heh, that rhymed."

Nyx rolls his eyes and returns to ignoring him.

It's quiet once again, the silence just as comfortable as before, and after a few more minutes of watching the fireworks, Prompto breaks the silence again.

"Aren't you a Glaive?" Nyx grunts an affirmation. "King Regis said yesterday that he sent one of your fellow Glaives to get me." The thought bothers him, if Prompto has to be honest. If that Glaive did show up in Tenebrae to get him, Prompto is positive he would've gone with them. He can't help but wonder how _that_ would go. "Can you tell me how I could meet them so I can personally thank them?"

At this, Nyx's face falls, and he can't quite meet Prompto's eyes as he shakes his head. It's enough to tell Prompto what it all means; his eyes widen at the realisation, and he, too, looks away from Nyx.

"Oh," he breathes out. Someone whom he _didn't_ even meet _died_ for him. He feels a little lightheaded. "I-I'm sorry," he stammers, "that was---I didn't---"

"It's fine," Nyx cuts off, and there's a moment of hesitation, but he eventually places a hand on Prompto's shoulder. "Don't be sorry. Her death isn't your fault."

Prompto mutely nods, but he still can't quite meet Nyx's eyes. _Not his fault_. How could it not? She died because she was sent to _get him_.

Prompto sighs, shrugging Nyx’s hand off. "I think I'll retire to my room now."

Nyx nods, dropping his hand to his side. "I'll see you to your room, then."

"No, it's fine." Prompto tries for a smile, but he knows it falls short. "You're on guard duty, remember?"

Nyx gives him another long look, which he returns, until Nyx relents, straightening himself and folding his arms behind him once again. "Fine," he grumbles. "Just go straight to your room."

"I know."

He excuses himself after that, seeking King Regis himself to bid him a good evening, then he's on his way down to his room. His foot taps along to the elevator music, somehow distracting himself enough from the thoughts and worries that are starting to crowd his head once again. He can't bear to think about it right now.

The elevator stops with a _ding_ , and its doors open. Prompto steps into the hallway, and it's all gold and polished black. He still stands out here, because splashes of white in his clothes still clash with the black accents of the place. It's quiet as he makes his way to his room, which isn't so hard to find; the royal suites in the floor are few and in between with how spacious each room is, and soon enough, Prompto is standing in front of one of the doors and fishing out the keycard in his pocket.

His door unlocks with an audible click and a hum of confirmation from the lock device itself, and Prompto opens his door with a yawn, only to stop halfway through, his eyes wide at the figure standing tall in the hallway in his room.

General Glauca stands in front of him, all armour and greatsword, and Prompto knows the man has been expecting him.

"You," General Glauca says, "slave of fate and destiny---"

Prompto slams the door shut.

He immediately runs to the elevator, his hand shaking as he fumbles to press the button that marks _up_. When the doors don't open immediately, his eyes look up at the floor marker above the elevator and sees that it's on the _first floor_. He's on the _fiftieth fucking floor_.

"Oh, no," Prompto rasps out. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. "No, no, no."

His first mistake is that he didn't let Nyx come with him.

Prompto hears the door to his room open, and he immediately bolts down the hallway, looking for the fire exit, because the stairs are on the other side of the floor where Glauca is. It's his second mistake. The hallways are quiet save for Prompto's desperate footfalls and the steady echo of General Glauca's steps, and when Prompto starts to think _where the fuck are the guards?_ is when he realises his third mistake.

There were guards here when he and the rest of the delegation in the floor with him left for the party. Now there is none.

He should've known the moment he stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway; _he really should've known_ , and Prompto loudly curses as he finally reaches the fire exit, praying to the astrals that someone would at least hear that loud _fuck!_ all the way to the top floor, preferably Nyx.

He turns the doorknob. Locked.

"What?" He rattles it, trying to force the door open. "No, no, no, no!"

"Did you think," Glauca says, his deep voice rattling the very core of Prompto's being, "you will get away so easily, Oracle? You have a purpose."

Prompto would have jumped out of the nearest window if Glauca didn't knock him out first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more things to say:
> 
> \- cor is actually wrong and farsightedness doesn't have anything to do with reading in the dark lol  
> \- PROMPTO ACCIDENTALLY FLIRTED WITH NYX AND HE HAS NO IDEA THAT NYX ALSO JUST TURNED HIM DOWN. when i realised what just happened in That Scene i was like "oh my god, prompto. YOU'RE BETROTHED!!!"  
> \- oh, nyx. he really does barely know prompto. oracle!prompto is a liar and a good actor if the situation calls for it, but nyx is still right. prompto wouldn't be prompto---no matter the au---if he doesn't let himself go the way only prompto ever can. it's just that growing up in a place taken over by snakes teaches you how to be one, too.  
> \- [here's what prompto and noct's rings look like.](https://bnsec.bluenile.com/bluenile/is/image/bluenile/-milgrain-brushed-wedding-ring-platinum-18k-yellow-gold-/56558_main?%24phab_detailmain%24) i absolutely adore it.  
> \- i wish i knew what prompto's wedding clothes look like. a tux? a suit? a dress? feel free to make designs :-)


	6. kingsglaive (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing is free in capitalism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER, REPORTING IN. ONCE AGAIN, N O T E S:
> 
> \- remember what i talked about in the end notes of ascension (II)? oracle luna is selfless; oracle prompto is selfish, and this is the chapter where that one difference completely changes _everything_  
>  \- count how many nos prompto says.  
> \- on a more important note, [SOMEONE ACTUALLY WENT AND DREW PROMPTO IN HIS WEDDING ATTIRE!!!!!!!](https://twitter.com/primagrine/status/837340808982323200) THE MAD MAN.  
> \- it's [coupled](https://twitter.com/primagrine/status/836989123898425344) [with](https://twitter.com/primagrine/status/836998351845388288) [other](https://twitter.com/primagrine/status/837301542944329728) [drawings]() too and i'm??? crying??? Motherfuc  
> \- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa  
> \- this chapter is half the length of the previous chapter lol  
> \- KINGSGLAIVE ENDED UP BEING THREE CHAPTERS LONG hopefully the next chapter is the last kingsglaive chapter!!
> 
> as always, this fic is based on chocobaes' fateswap au in tumblr! check them out yall

There is only a few flickering of images as Prompto drifts from awake to not awake, first managing to register Glauca lifting him up and throwing him over his shoulder like he's a sack of sugar, then blinking against bright lights in a stark white hallway as he drifts back to unconsciousness. The next thing he knows is that he's dumped on a hard bed, and of all things to finally awake him, it's the uncomfortable squeaking of the bunk bed he's thrown into.

He blinks in the bed, squinting against the light as he takes deep breaths and thinking, _what the hell is going on?_ Then he hears Glauca's heavy footsteps as he leaves the room. It's a quick realisation after that, and it makes Prompto spring into action.

"Hey!" Prompto yells, scrambling off the bed and running to the door.  "Hey, hey, hey, hold on!"

Glauca ignores him, and he shuts the heavy metal door just as Prompto reaches it. Prompto slams his hands against it with a reverberating thud, ignoring the sting that blossoms from his palms as he presses his face against the circular glass on the door. General Glauca continues to make his way down the white, empty hall and away from the locked room, not even sparing Prompto a glance.

Prompto screams at the window.

"This is so---ugh!" Prompto kicks the locked door once, then he paces back and forth, his mind running at probably a hundred miles per hour to come up with a possible way to get out. There is _no_ possible way to get out, at least in an efficient way. There is no window in this room, and no other things save for a bed. The door is sealed tight, and it doesn't even have anything akin to a handle. While he can probably break the window on the door, it's definitely going to be at the cost of his arm.

For a good minute, Prompto considers destroying this place out of spite, and then he banishes the idea with a shake of his head. No, he can't do that. What would he do afterwards? Lay down dying until Glauca finds him again? It would cost him more power than he is used to, and it's a lot trickier than dishing out golden light to heal. He doesn't even _know_ where he is.

Prompto chews on his bottom lip, his gaze falling onto the bed. He can't really do anything else that doesn't end up with getting himself killed, can he?

Prompto sighs, his chest heavy with regret, and he walks towards the bed and flops onto it face first.

The bed isn't even soft.

\--

Prompto spends the next day mulling over how stupid he is. He knows better than to trust Niflheim, yet he let himself get taken so easily.

His camera says it is past afternoon, not too long now before the treaty signing. His absence from the event will surely be noticed, maybe not immediately, but someone is bound to notice it. What is going to happen once that happens? What is _King Regis_ going to do?

Prompto takes a deep breath, burying his face into his hands. King Regis himself admitted that he can't fight anymore, and Prompto knows the king trusts Niflheim's honesty as much as Prompto does, and when the king realises he is gone---

_A weakened King Regis against Niflheim in the throne room---_

Prompto doesn't like being alone with his thoughts like this. It reminds him too much of his time when Ravus and Cor were gone, and he tries not to think about how nothing is different from before. He's still helpless, still _useless_ \---except to the people who want to lay Lucis, and the people Prompto loves, to ruin. To the people he wants to protect, he's nothing but a threat.

Prompto looks at his left hand, curling and uncurling his fingers, and he feels the unfamiliar chill of magic as he slowly calls out to it, one that opposes the warmth and familiarity of his own magic. This may cost him, but maybe it's worth destroying this place for.

Sounds of struggle outside snaps Prompto out of his concentration, though, and with a small bit of hope in him, he picks up his camera and shoves it into his pocket, heading straight to the door to take a peek through the window. There is nothing for him to see; it's still the long, empty hallway where Glauca walked down in, and then someone suddenly comes into view. Prompto yelps as the man grins at him.

"One prince sighted," comes the man's muffled voice, his fingers against his earpiece, and there's a click outside before the door opens with a loud groan. Prompto inhales, feet shaking as he stumbles out of the room, and the man catches him when he trips.

"Whoa, there," he says, helping Prompto straighten himself. "Be careful, Your Highness. Can you walk?"

"Y-Yes." Prompto looks up at the man. He's someone unfamiliar to Prompto, but with a hood and in a uniform that is _familiar_ to him, and Prompto blinks. "Glaive?"

"Yessir," the man says with a nod. "Glaive Pelna, at your service. The King sent us to find you."

"But how did you guys know where I---"

"Not us, Nyx figured it out."

_Nyx._

And as if summoned by the mere mention of his name, heavy footsteps echo down the hallway to their left, and both he and Pelna turn to find Nyx himself running towards them, yelling. "Pelna!" Nyx urgently says, but Pelna simply grins at him, raising his arms in a shrug.

"One prince of Tenebrae safe and---"

Prompto falls back and away from Pelna with a yell, his eyes wide as Pelna is suddenly taken in the grip of an enormous tentacle. He feels Nyx's hand on his arm, pulling him away as Pelna is slammed violently against the wall.

"Come on!" Nyx tugs Prompto towards him. Prompto moves, but his eyes remain on the taken Glaive as he is hit against the space where Prompto once stood.

Pelna's eyes are wide at him.

"Prompto!"

He stumbles after Nyx as they finally run to the direction Nyx came from, and they turn to a corner just as the monster throws Pelna's ragged body towards them.

_Another one._

"Where the hell are we?" Prompto asks as they run a series of twists and curves in an attempt to find an exit. The monster---no, the _daemon_ gurgles, shaking the entire place. A quick double take behind them tells Prompto that it can't reach them anymore.

They both stop at an intersection, Nyx leaning against the wall to look both ways and Prompto following suit, pressing himself close against Nyx. He looks at Prompto.

"Magitek engine," Nyx says, looking away and motioning at Prompto to follow. "En route to Insomnia."

"We're outside Insomnia?"

"More importantly---" They burst out of the white hallways and find themselves in what could be the heart of the ship, its gargantuan engine whirring in the middle of the open space, metal walkways surrounding it. The sides are open with the wind passing through the open gaps. Nyx looks at Prompto. "Who took you?"

Prompto sucks in a breath, and then, "General Glauca."

Nyx clicks his tongue, and they both make their way down. "You were bait to get us here."

Prompto smiles bitterly, a hand running through his sweat-damped hair as he jumps off the ladder. "Always wanted to catch the big fish myself."

Nyx says nothing to that, fingers against his earpiece instead as he reports that he already found Prompto, and as they make their way down the metal walkway, the heat of the engine making Prompto wince, they hear a crackle---a sound that is almost similar to a glass shattering. Prompto looks outside, and his heart falls at what he sees.

"Oh, no," he breathes out, a hand holding against the railing as the other goes over his mouth. "The Wall."

Outside is the Wall shattering, the pieces falling like stars before fading away with the wind. He and Nyx watch as the other Magitek engines in the fleet finally enter Insomnia, and it is the most horrifying sight Prompto sees since Tenebrae's attack.

This is it---what Niflheim wants from this treaty, and it's not the last of it.

Metal footsteps echo throughout the place, coming from different directions, and while Nyx turns to meet two of his fellow Glaives, Prompto turns to look at another Glaive coming from where they emerged from not too long ago. It only takes a second of eye contact before said Glaive is unsheathing his dagger, and Prompto takes a step back.

The Glaive attacks.

And Nyx moves before Prompto even breathes. All it takes is a parry then a sidestep, and Nyx twists behind the Glaive before putting his hands on the Glaive and breaking his neck.

Prompto hears a sound behind him as the Glaive falls unmoving. "What are y---" Then there's a gurgle, and Prompto turns and watches in shock as one of the Glaives throws the other off the walkway, and---is this...is this what is really happening?

Betrayal---not of just Niflheim, but also of King Regis' own men?

There's an explosion behind them, and the ship shakes and tilts. He and Nyx stumble, but the other Glaive loses balance and goes sliding down the walkway. Prompto clutches onto the railing as he and Nyx both make their way out of the room, desperately outrunning the sudden fire that threatens to engulf the ship. A quick glance behind them is all what Prompto needs to know what is happening: one of the ships crashed onto theirs.

_How many more?_

They climb up the ladder on the other end of the walkway, Nyx letting him up first, and Prompto scrambles through the door only to find that half of the ship is already torn down to its skeleton, wind violently whipping every which way. Prompto tries to halt his steps, but in the end, he trips over his own feet and goes tumbling down the ruined floor with a yell, sliding off and very much on his way to the ground. He thinks he's going to be the first Oracle Jam, _trademark_.

"I got you!"

Prompto's violent descent halts when he feels a firm grip on his left leg, and he's dangling in the air as he watches pieces of the ship chip off and fall. Ravus' locket has fallen out of its hiding and dangles on his neck. The chocobo keychain from his camera is peeking out of his pocket. He can't see the ground from this height. Prompto swallows and looks at Nyx, who managed to hold onto a rogue metal rod that is sticking out of the ruined floor.

He looks down at Prompto. "I got you, okay? Hold on!"

"Cool! Thanks! I'm upside down! Now pull me up!" Though with difficulty, Prompto attempts to stuff the keychain back in, but it's only making the camera slide out instead. "My camera's going to fall!"

Nyx scowls at him, obviously annoyed. " _That's_ what you're worried ab---"

They both fall.

Well, _Prompto_ falls, but Nyx is tackled by a Glaive, and he ends up letting go of Prompto as he, too, slides off. Prompto lets out a scream as he drops down and feels the air whip past his ears, and he flails his arms around in a desperate attempt at _flying_. Prompto probably manages two flaps before hitting against something suspiciously fleshy, knocking the air out of him, and he chokes at the tight hold of the tentacle around him---the daemon from before is finally released upon the ship's explosion.

It's hard to register a lot of things when one is being flailed around by a giant daemon octopus. At one point, Prompto thinks he hears Nyx yelling, then he catches a glimpse of Nyx warping before closing his eyes shut and trying not to throw up.

Summoning his magic when he doesn't have the trident is already difficult, and it is especially difficult when he is being squeezed to death by a daemon, but, eventually, he opens his eyes and presses his hands, fingers now glowing gold, firmly against the daemon's flesh. There is a sizzle and smoke where Prompto's hands touch, and the daemon screeches and finally lets Prompto go in the worst way possible, throwing him towards an open Magitek engine, one that is significantly smaller than the ship they were in.

Prompto, luckily, lands into the tilting ship, but he slides and almost falls off the engine again, but there's a flash of blue in front of him, then Nyx is taking his hands and is pulling him into the ship. Traces of red glow on Nyx's ashen skin.

"How the hell did you do that?" Nyx asks as they both stumble into the cockpit and onto the empty pilot seats. Prompto is still dazed from what happened, so he answers the first thing that comes to mind.

"Swag."

Nyx makes a face at him. "I thought royalty should be the type to have class, not swag."

Prompto still feels high from the adrenaline rush, and he feels as if the world is turning upside down as he turns to Nyx. The ship is damaged; the opening where Prompto flew into is actually a hole caused by the daemon, and there are way too much beeping in the cockpit for Prompto's comfort, but he gives Nyx a lopsided smile.

"I'm a hybrid."

\--

Insomnia is in shambles.

As Nyx flies the groaning ship over the city, Prompto leans forward and takes in the scene laid in front of him: broken buildings, ruined monuments, fallen skyscrapers, fire and smoke---Insomnia's lustre has been taken away.

Prompto's hands shake. "We need to go to the Citadel."

"What?" Nyx frowns at him. "No. It's too dangerous. Insomnia is a war zone."

"Your point?" Prompto says. "We need to find King Regis and get him out of here. Isn't that your job as a Glaive?"

"My job," Nyx replies through his teeth, his fingers tight around the controls, and Prompto knows he wants to go there, too, "is to protect _you_."

Prompto opens his mouth to argue, but he stops, and his eyes widen at a Magitek engine that he spots flying from the Citadel from the distance. It's hard to miss the long, black encasing hanging from the ship as it flies away, and Prompto's stomach drops at the sight.

"Oh, no," he mutters, his grip tightening on the edges of his seat. "They got the Crystal."

"Is that it?" Nyx asks, and Prompto can tell he's trying hard not to lose it. "Is that what they want?"

"Not just that," Prompto softly says. "Nyx, please turn the ship to the Citadel."

There's a moment of hesitation, then Nyx sighs, and the ship, creaking and groaning, changes course.

Prompto can tell as they fly closer and closer to the Citadel that Nyx is already losing control of the ship. As they approach the Citadel, Prompto sees one of open terraces on one of the uppermost floors, and he points at it.

"There," he says, "we can go there."

"Yeah, that's gonna take a minute. I'm trying to slow it down, if it's not obvious yet."

Prompto sighs. "Then I'll go there myself."

"What, you have wings under that suit? You can't use magic."

Oh, haha. L-O-L. Prompto stands from his seat and rushes to the gaping hole on the engine, and he holds tightly on the edges as he feels the winds, threatening to pull him down. He smirks. "Well, I got something better than magic."

"What? Hey!"

Prompto turns to look at Nyx, whose eyes are wide at him, and he grins mischievously as he says, "I told you, I got swag."

He jumps off the engine.

And immediately regrets it.

He swings his arms and legs to gain more momentum and get himself to the open terrace on the Citadel, and there is an increasing panic when he realises he is not going to make it, and he _really_ shouldn't have told Nyx what he just told him. Prompto opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ just so his last word won't be _swag_ , when something knocks onto him and sends him crashing into the terrace. Prompto groans, rolling to his back before pushing himself off the floor, and he sees Nyx standing up a few paces from him. He glares at Prompto.

"I can't let you die," Nyx growls, "knowing that the last thing you said to anyone was _I got swag_. That shit's going to haunt me for the rest of my miserable life."

Prompto chuckles, taking the hand Nyx offers him and winces at the abrupt way Nyx pulls him up. "I guess," he says as he lets go of Nyx's hand, "my swag saved me?"

"No, I saved your sorry ass." Nyx slaps his back, and he chuckles again, though it sounds more like a cough. "C'mon, let's find the king."

\--

Their footsteps echo throughout the polished marble floor as they make their way to the throne room, and with every body they run across, Prompto grows more worried. Will the next body they find be the king's?

"Hey," Nyx says, shoving Prompto aside. Prompto stumbles a bit. Just a bit. "Keep it together. You're the one who wanted to find the king."

Prompto nods, and he jogs just a little ahead of Nyx. "I know."

Nyx matches his pace, looking straight ahead as he steps over another body. "We'll make it out."

"We will."

They're still a considerable distance from the throne room, but still, Prompto hears them resounding in the entire floor: the sounds of battle and the clashing of blades and magic. He and Nyx exchange looks before breaking out to a run. It shouldn't feel this long, but it does, and Prompto wants nothing more than to be there _already_. When they finally do, bursting into the ruined throne room, Prompto's eyes widen at what greets him: General Glauca's sword swinging upon King Regis' hand. Prompto yells.

"No!"

Nyx disappears from his side in a crackle of blue, and Prompto watches as he appears in front of Glauca and swings his dagger to parry Glauca's sword away from King Regis. With Glauca distracted, Prompto runs to King Regis, heaving him up with both hands.

"Prompto," the king breathes out, and Prompto grins at him. The king looks fine, and it already makes Prompto's overly fucked day.

"Not dead yet, Your Majesty."

King Regis leads them to the far end of the room, the echo of Nyx's and Glauca's blades ringing in his ears, and then, pressing his hand against what innocently looks like just another marble wall, King Regis opens an elevator for them to enter.

They both turn, just in time for them to see Nyx get slammed against the floor by Glauca, and King Regis raises his hand.

"In here," King Regis calls out, "quickly!"

Lightning shoots out of the king's hand, hitting the general and knocking him back and away from Nyx, and King Regis summons another to keep Glauca down and to give Nyx the breathing room he needs.

Nyx throws his dagger to the elevator, and he warps and almost crashes onto Prompto just as the elevator doors close.

Prompto's hands are on Nyx's shoulders as he helps Nyx straighten himself. "You okay, buddy?"

Nyx heaves out a heavy sigh. "Never been better."

Prompto smiles, relieved, and then it's quiet; the only thing filling in the silence is the sound of the shifting gears of the elevator as it descends.

"This leads to a hidden passageway," King Regis eventually says, and both he and Nyx look at him. "Follow it. Once you are away, make for Altissia." He looks at Prompto. "Noctis awaits you there."

A beat of silence, then Prompto draws in a breath. "...Your Majesty?"

"You knew," Nyx suddenly says, eyes sharp on the king, "that this was coming---"

"Yes, but it was the only way to draw their wrath from Noctis."

Nyx, though, merely shakes his head. "Is that the way of our king? Sacrifice Lucian sons to save his own?"

Prompto thinks of King Regis at the throne room, the day they finally met after twelve long years, and how the magic of the kings have taken a toll on him. He thinks of the prophecy, of King Regis knowing of the cost, and he thinks of the great lengths the king has taken to keep Noct as safe as he can, despite already losing him to something greater than anything.

"No," Prompto says, and Nyx looks at him. "To save the world."

Another silence.

"See Prompto safely to Altissia," King Regis finally says, and it's easy to tell how Nyx is still unconvinced, blinking once and exhaling, but King Regis continues. "This is not an order from a king to his Glaive, but a plea from one man to another. Please, Nyx Ulric; keep him safe.

"For the future of all."

Nyx purses his lips together for a second, and then, "the future?"

The elevator shakes once, and then King Regis grabs Prompto's hand. "Here," he says, and he slips off something from his finger, unfurling Prompto's fingers to press it against his palm. When Prompto looks at his hand, he blinks once; the Ring of the Lucii glints against the light, and he looks up at King Regis, his expression questioning.

The king nods, once. "It is time it passes to another's keeping."

Prompto's lips press together as he looks down at the ring. Though he does not wear it, he can still feel the weight of magic emanating from it, pulling him, making him feel heavy. _The burden of the kings._

He looks at King Regis with a nod, his fingers curling around the ring tightly.

It is at that moment that the elevator stops, its doors opening. Prompto walks in front of the king as Nyx walks out, and he leads King Regis out of the elevator, the three of them walking into a spacious dome leading to what possibly be the exit.

It takes longer than it should; King Regis limps, and Prompto quietly cheers the king on as they slowly make their way to the exit. Almost there, just a bit more, Your Majesty, and then---

King Regis wrenches his hand away from Prompto's grip, and he takes a step back as Prompto turns to him.

"...Your Majesty?" King Regis raises his hand, and, realising what the king is about to do, Prompto starts to run. "Your Majesty!"

Prompto's palm hits solid, immovable glass as the king's magic separates Prompto and Nyx from him. Prompto grits his teeth, the fist holding the ring slamming against the glass barrier as the other hand claws against it. "No! Don't do this. _King Regis_."

A melancholic smile graces the king's features, one that claws at Prompto's heart, and when the king speaks, he knows that it's the king's way of farewell.

"I know your mother would wish the same as me..." Prompto vigorously shakes his head---a plea to stop, but it's futile. "That you and Noctis live happily." No, _no_.

"All those years captive because I failed you." He didn't---he _didn't_. He _never_ did. Prompto hits the barrier with his fist again, and Nyx tries to pry him off, but he doesn't relent, stubbornly shrugging the Glaive off as he hits the barrier once again. "Not again." And he gives Prompto a look, one that he's seen once, on Cor's face during his ascension: a look of pride, and it breaks Prompto's heart.

"Locked doors will seal your fate no longer."

Prompto screams, his fist raising once again to hit the barrier. _No_. "This isn't the fate that _I_ want!"

Before his fist connects, though, Nyx catches his wrist, and Nyx has to practically wrench his body from the barrier. "We have to go."

"Nyx!"

"We gotta go!"

The whole dome shakes, and the elevator groans until General Glauca smashes through it with ease. King Regis drops his hand on his side, giving Prompto one last look---an apology---and turns to meet the general. He throws his cane aside.

Prompto's eyes are wide at the pair on the other side of the barrier as Nyx drags him away and to the exit. Glauca bows in mockery of the king before raising his greatsword and charging, and King Regis knocks him back with a shot of lightning.

"Nyx! Let me _go_."

"And what are you going to do?"

" _Anything_."

Glauca easily gets back on his feet, raising his sword once again, and it merely absorbs the heat of the lightning King Regis summons as he approaches. Prompto squirms in Nyx's hold.

"Behold the king of Lucis," Glauca says, unfazed by the king's magic," who hoarded tranquillity within his precious walls. Where is your tranquillity now, king?"

Prompto bites Nyx's arm as hard as he can, and as Nyx yelps, he wrenches himself away and runs back to the barrier, palm and fist against the glass wall as he tries to find a way through.

"Here is your peace..."

There is no way through.

"...By steel's swift descent."

Nothing but one.

_This is enough._

Glauca swings his sword, once, pushing King Regis back, and Prompto uncurls his fist where he holds the ring. As he takes the metal band, Glauca raises his sword, and Prompto looks at King Regis as he slips the Ring of the Lucii onto his thumb.

The world stops.

\--

It's dark.

Prompto stands in the same dome, but without light. No King Regis, no Nyx, no Glauca. Just him, and the mute darkness.

It's been a long time since he found himself alone in the dark, and he'll never get used to it.

"Hey," Prompto calls out in the dark, because if there is one thing to catch a bunch of spirits' attention, it's calling out to them. "Kings of Lucis, I'm here for a visit."

One by one, they reveal themselves, one hundred and twelve souls within thirteen holders, and Prompto curls his hands into fists.

 _You call upon wards of the future, mortal_ , they say, _and if you come lusting for our power, then you first stand in our judgement._

"Yeah?" Prompto says, knuckles turning white. "And what do you judge?"

 _A foolish human who desperately clings to the present_ , one voice says, _and who fears the future._

 _You are not worthy,_ says another, and Prompto feels his blood run cold. _Now burn._

 _No,_ a third says, _not yet._

There's a moment of silence, Prompto holding his breath. Despite the threat of _death_ , he forces his hands to remain still.

_An Astral's mark is singed deep in your soul._

Prompto's eyebrows raise at that, and he releases a shaky breath before recomposing himself, straightening his shoulders. "Uh, yeah. In case you all knowing kings don't know, I'm the Oracle of the King of Light. I'm meant to set the prophecy in full motion."

There's another silence, the kings considering him, and then, _you do not intend to fulfil that role._

"No," Prompto agrees, and he feels his hands start to shake again and wills them to stay still. He looks determinedly at the flickering images of the old kings, swallowing the lump that threatens to form in his throat. "But I intend to fulfil my other role as Oracle: I'll keep the light and the future bright. For everyone."

There is laughter, one that is mocking, and it makes Prompto frown. _You intend to rewrite the future._

"No. I don't intend to rewrite something that's been written against a stone," Prompto says. "What I want is the freedom to strike that stone to nurture the fire of a brighter future." He pauses. "A future where nothing ends in sacrifice."

 _This is the mortal that an Astral marked?_  One of the voices says. _He gambles._

"There is no gambling," Prompto says, lifting his chin up, "when I know I will win."

For the third time, silence falls once again. It’s one that makes Prompto squirm for a little, because he knows that when this silence is broken, it’s either he dies or he doesn’t die. Death isn't an option, though---and if it's what he'll get out of this, then he'll make sure his death isn't going to go to waste.

 _Your resolve is true and bold,_ one of the kings eventually says, _and perhaps worthy not just of an Astral's mark, but also of our power, but know that this does not come without a price._

"Nothing's free in capitalism," Prompto says with a shrug, but there is relief in his voice.Relief and resolve. "Name your price."

_Your soul for a lifetime of power. This is the price for seeking to overthrow fate._

_You, too, will bear the burden of the kings._

Prompto looks down, uncurls his fingers as he exhales, and he looks up at the kings of Lucis with a grin.

"Alright," he tells them. "Now give it to me."

\--

Prompto spreads out his left hand, and lightning crackles from his fingertips, raising all the hairs on his body as it strikes through the barrier King Regis made. The barrier cracks and shatters, and the lightning connects with Glauca and throws him away from the king.

Prompto stumbles, lightheaded, but he forces his feet to the king. "N-Nyx!"

"On it!" Another web of lightning shoots out from behind Prompto as he stumbles to King Regis, and it hits the wall where Glauca landed, creating cracks as it travels up and onto the ceiling. The whole room shakes.

When Prompto finally reaches King Regis, his eyes are wide at Prompto, unbelieving, and, yeah, maybe Prompto deserves that one. "You..."

"Later!" Prompto throws the king's arm over his shoulders as he wheels them both away from the collapsing ceiling, courtesy of Nyx. He takes the king from Prompto, and the three of them stumble their way out as the room collapses and buries Glauca inside.

The tunnel they stumble into is pitch dark, and Prompto raises his hand, fingers glowing gold as he takes the lead.

"You," Nyx says, looking at Prompto with a wide smile, "are crazy."

"Crazy enough to be deemed worthy by the ring," Prompto replies with a smile of his own.

"No, not that," Nyx says, "you _bit_ my arm. The cloth is as thick as _leather_ , and you _hurt_ me."

Prompto makes a breathless laugh. "Well, I had to."

"Men," King Regis says, leaning against Nyx for support, "we have to hurry." Both he and Nyx quiet down, but the king smiles. "You were impressive, Prompto. Thank you."

Prompto grins.

It takes them a whole lot of walking, but they soon find themselves in an underground parking lot, a huge statue not unlike the one Prompto saw before engraved into the tall, grey wall, and he rushes to the nearest car. He pauses, then frowns. "We don't have a key for any of these!" he says.

"Allow me." Nyx helps King Regis lean against the car, and the king puts a hand on the handle of the car's door, and soon enough, the car unlocks, headlights flickering once. Prompto blinks.

"You know, Your Majesty," Prompto says as they all climb in, him and King Regis in the backseat and Nyx taking the driver's seat, "you did the same with the elevator back there. Do you have, like, a universal key inside your hand or something?"

King Regis gives him a soft, amused look as Nyx snorts and starts the car's engine. "My dear," King Regis says, "with magic and will, all doors will open." Prompto stares at him, and he continues. "I only realised now that it does not only apply to all doors in the Citadel and royalty-issued cars."

Prompto looks down, gaze falling at the Ring of the Lucii wrapped around his thumb. He knows what King Regis means. With this, something has changed, and King Regis is alive. _Overthrowing fate_ , the kings of Lucis said. Is that what Prompto is about to do? His fingers brush against the ring, and he is about to take it off when the king puts his hand over his.

"No, Prompto," King Regis says as he looks up at him. "Keep it. It is yours, until it is Noctis'."

Prompto opens his mouth to speak, but he only realises the streak of blood across King Regis' face, and looking down again, Prompto sees that his other hand is injured---two fingers are gone.

"Your Majesty---!" He gingerly cradles the king's injured hand, blood staining his hands, and he looks up at King Regis with wide eyes. "Please, let me."

King Regis shakes his head. "I know how your magic consumes you," he replies with a pinch of worry in his face, "a cloth will do, Prompto."

A cloth...

With a hesitant nod, Prompto reaches into his pocket and fishes out Ravus' white cloth, accidentally pulling out his camera along in the process. It falls to the carpeted floor with a soft thud, and Prompto ignores it for a moment in favour of tying the cloth over the king's wound, then he picks the camera up.

A look of nostalgia crosses the king's face upon seeing the camera, and he smiles softly. "I see it's still working after so long. An old collection of good memories."

Good memories. That is true, it's what the camera is: all good memories, before Tenebrae burned, before Insomnia burned, and as bittersweet as it is, as Nyx drives the car across a bridge overlooking the remains of Insomnia, Prompto and King Regis recall fond memories, when none of the prophecy mattered, when the biggest problem Prompto had was how to sneak Noctis out of the manor and to the waterfalls behind it.

Perhaps once they fix everything, Noctis could join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS USUAL, MORE NOTES:
> 
> \- i hope you guys know by now i'm using de novo to complain about final fantasy 15  
> \- my biggest issue yet with the plot holes that i always have a staring contest with: WHAT is the nature of the oracle's magic? what makes it work? what are the oracle's complete abilities? does the oracle need the trident to be able to use her magic? the omen trailer shows luna being able to use protect, and the game shows her being able to give leviathan the wacking she deserves and heal people of their physical injuries. since she could purify the scourge and is believed to have holy magic, then she should be perfectly capable of hurting daemons. YET, kingsglaive made it as if she is completely powerless and, like nyx said, can't use magic. WHAT?  
> \- and why doesn't nyx know she's the oracle? it's not as if the oracle's existence is a secret. the line of the oracle is as old as the line of the kings and has its own kingdom to rule, and with how people keep bringing her up in the radios in the game, it's easy to tell she's FAMOUS. maybe we can reason it out with nyx being bad at catching up with recent events, but he should at least know about the oracle and tenebrae and putting two and two together. i have come to the conclusion that nyx is just your local idiot.  
> \- i was going to bring up why luna being the oracle ended up being a discarded fact in the movie, but never mind.  
> \- i was also going to bring up why niflheim seem to be completely unaware of the wedding taking place in altissia until i realised king regis was definitely the one who arranged the wedding to be there without the empire's knowledge, and they SOMEHOW found out about it in the game, most likely because of spies. okay.  
> \- i originally meant to have king regis killed like in canon, but i remembered the omen trailer and the whole "i need one more life before i am satisfied" and was like "WHAT better way to kill the prophecy than pissing the draconian off?" and here we are. prompto originally meant to put on the ring to save nyx's life in That Scene with glauca.  
> \- promnyx is a thing now and we're all crying in this small baby boat with lots of holes and slowly sinking


	7. kingsglaive (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the might of the old wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER HERE!!! I'M FINALLY FINISHED WITH THIS THREE-PART CHAPTER THANK THE SIX. AS USUAL, NOTES BC I WON'T SHUT THE FUCK UP:
> 
> \- thank you so, so much for the comments and support in the previous chapter! i tried to reply to every single comment there, but it proved to be a daunting task, because if i end up replying to everyone, i won't find the time to write this lol SO here's me thanking all of you! love yall.  
> \- pls don't report me but i opened [fic commissions](https://twitter.com/clearestrod/status/838712492779954177)! there's currently one slot left, but when i finish all my commissions, i'll be reopening slots. ~~feel free to donate money to my paypal lol it's for a good cause bc my cat needs it~~  
>  \- that being said, the next chapter will take a while bc i intend to focus on my commissions at the moment! thank you everyone for the support so far!  
> \- this chapter immediately jumps into the action, because HELLO this is kingsglaive, which is an entertaining action-flick if u ignore the plotholes (i ignored the plotholes on my first watch and cried like a big baby on the second half of the film. as of writing this i've watched the film over five times and i'm just angry at the plotholes). this chapter is honestly the most action-oriented piece of writing i've ever done. I Cried  
> \- it's like 4 am and i'm a tired man PLEASE forgive any mistakes!! i don't have a beta reader lol  
> \- sorry for the promnyx baiting i'm normally better than this

Their moment of peace as they drive down the long flyover is, unfortunately, just that: a moment, and a short, fleeting one at that.

Not too long after King Regis and Prompto start flipping through his camera, a Magitek engine flies over their car, a spotlight focused on them, and Nyx loudly curses as he hits on the gas. The car speeds forward as bullets rain down after them, and the car shakes as a couple of bullets hit the trunk. With a grunt, King Regis summons a barrier over the car, and with every crack on it, the barrier immediately regenerates with a shimmer, and it looks more like Prompto is watching rain pour down against the glass barrier. It would've been pretty if they weren't being hunted down.

Prompto gapes. "How did they find us so fast?"

"Well, we’re the only ones in a car," Nyx replies, and the car turns sharply along the flyover, the Magitek ship still flying after them. Nyx looks at the king through the rearview mirror. "Your Majesty?"

"Go," King Regis says, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to keep the barrier active. Nyx switches his gaze to Prompto as he opens his door.

"Your Highness, can you drive?"

"Hah. Me?" Prompto climbs to the driver's seat as Nyx moves to get out of the running car, one hand already clutching his dagger. "No."

Nyx makes a sound at him, possibly a groan or a growl; Prompto can't really tell. He says a quick _I'll be back_ , then he's gone, leaving flashes of blue in his wake.

Both of Prompto's hands are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes wide on the road ahead of them. They are _probably_ going to die. "Um. Mind being my driving instructor, Your Majesty?"

They hear an explosion behind them, and the bullets start missing their car. King Regis relaxes as he distinguishes his magic. "Of course," King Regis says. "Driving is easy. Keep your foot on the gas---it's the second pedal---and don't crash the car."

"Breaks?"

"Don't know them."

Prompto manages a laugh as the car speeds down the flyover, and to quickly describe his driving: it is godsdamn _awful_. Prompto narrowly avoids every single abandoned car with a sharp turn of the wheel, and the speed metre steadily increases over time. If this keeps up, with the _king_ himself encouraging him, they're going to die of the worst car crash _ever_ , but Prompto supposes it's better that than getting caught by the Empire.

Soon enough, there's a loud, deafening explosion behind them, and the car shudders at the force of the explosion. It's easy to tell that the Magitek ship after them has been taken care of, but with the ship destroyed behind them, a new one immediately replaces it, this time hovering ahead of them.

It deploys a mech, which immediately readies its weapons at them. Prompto's eyes widen.

"Oh, _shit_."

"Get out of its way, Prompto!"

"How?!"

"Swerve the car off the flyover!"

"What?!" Prompto says as he does it anyway, sharply turning the car to the side. He sees a flurry of blue in his peripheral vision as he rams the car to the railings, and the car breaks through and speeds off the flyover, Prompto screaming at the quickly approaching ground.

The car flips and lands upside down on the nearest rooftop. It skids and twists across the ground as Prompto grits his teeth and keeps his head protected, and when it stops, the car is tilting at the edge of the building, Prompto's side facing the rooftop.

Prompto holds his breath, and there's a beat of silence.

"Prompto," King Regis says in the backseat. Though upside down, he looks fine, but--- "Quickly, get out."

Prompto's eyes widen. "What? But---" The car loudly groans, and the king scowls at him.

" _Now_."

Prompto has no other choice but to do as he's told, and he quickly opens the door and scrambles out as the car groans again, scratching against the ground. As soon as Prompto rolls onto the rooftop, the car finally gives in to gravity and tips off the building, and he watches with wide, horrified eyes as the car falls off in front of him.

"No, no, no, no!" Prompto scrambles to the edge, his eyes still wide as the car continues to skid down in between buildings with a deafening screech. He hears sounds quickly approaching him, and when he turns, he's quickly met with bright lights. The mech from earlier has caught up to him, and Prompto immediately scrambles out of the way to avoid the bullets sent his way.

He's alone now, and he doesn't know what to do.

Prompto finds the way down quickly enough, a metallic staircase leading down, and he runs there and practically leaps down as the bullets narrowly miss him and manages to tear through his fluttering cape. He finds the next quickest escape from the flights of stairs and bursts out of the alley he finds himself in and into the cold and empty streets of Insomnia.

The mech doesn't have qualms with leaping from the top floor of the building to Prompto, and he yelps and stumbles back as the mech lands in front of him, lights still focused on him. He scrambles to stand up and runs as the mech unleashes another round of bullets on him, quickly gaining on him.

"Cor, I need my trident!" Prompto loudly screams, and he summons his own magical barrier as he continues to run. The sounds of bullets continuously hitting glass behind him freaks him out, and because he knows he hasn't fully grasped the magic of the ring just yet, there is no doubt that he could lose control of his barrier any moment and accidentally extinguish it. He doesn't plan on dying on magical malfunction. He _needs_ the trident.

"Cor!"

Prompto leaps behind the nearest form of shield he could find: an abandoned ten wheeler truck, and he squats low against the truck, hands over his head as the mech continues to rain down bullets on the truck. The barrier has long disintegrated, leaving him defenceless, then he hears faint buzzing. Up in the sky, in the distance and silhouetted against the bright moon, is a swarm of giant wasps flying towards him. Daemons.

He just _can't_ catch a break.

Prompto angrily screams at the daemons’ direction and at the fact that Cor is _ignoring_ his plea to give him the trident, and he yelps when the truck shudders as the mech starts crushing it. He scrambles away as the mech quickly tears through the truck, and he narrowly avoids being stepped on by the damn thing. The ground shakes where the mech steps on, and Prompto stumbles and falls on his hands and knees, feeling the harsh heat of the mech's headlights on him.

Nice, in the worst form, ever. If he dies, Prompto is pinning the blame on Cor.

Prompto stares up at his would-be murderer as he slowly drags himself across the ground. The mech's gatling gun is pointed at him, slowly turning, the headlights focused on him making him sweat. He knows that if he even attempts to stand up, he's finished, and Prompto can't _freaking_ remember how he managed to summon the lightning he shot at Glauca.

"Haha," Prompto says, swallows. The daemons are hovering above them, still not striking, but Prompto doesn't even bother wondering why when he's dealing with _this_. "I still have things to do, you know." As if the mech's pilot cares. "Like marrying the prince, saving the world?" Prompto _screams_. "I'm just fucking twenty!"

As soon as he screams that, the mech's back explodes, scattering the hovering daemons, and Prompto scrambles away with an alarmed yell as the mech shudder. Now in a considerable distance, Prompto sees Nyx warp above the mech, a hand outstretched to shoot lightning at its gatling gun, and it hits the gun with so much force it cuts the gun off, and it falls off the mech with a shuddering, metallic groan and a deafening _thud_. Prompto doesn't get to see the rest of the fight, though, because he hears buzzing again, and he realises that the daemons are now intent on attacking him, speeding towards him as a swarm. Prompto starts running.

 _Why me?!_ is all Prompto can think as he runs away from Nyx and the mech, the damned wasps buzzing after him, _I'm the Oracle!_ They should be scared of him!

The swarm dives down towards him, stingers out, definitely, and Prompto, too, dives towards the concrete as the swarm flies over him in an arc. He looks up at the swarming wasps above him, eyebrows furrowed as he nervously licks his lips, and he hears something clatter and concrete being stabbed beside him. As the wasps go for another attack, Prompto looks beside him, and he blinks.

The Oracle's trident is sticking out of the ground, and with a breath of exasperated laughter, Prompto pulls out the trident, feeling the confusing tickle of magic in him stabilise.

The Trident of the Oracle and the Ring of the Lucii communicate, water is wet, the grass is green, and Prompto Argentum can do anything.

Prompto spreads out his free hand towards the attacking swarm. With a flash of bright, golden light that engulfs the area, the daemons reel back and away from Prompto before scattering, and he allows them to group together again as fire bursts out of his hand, feeling the cool sensation of the ring's unfamiliar magic as he looks down at the flames in his hand. He looks back up at the swarm of daemons and flings the ball of fire towards them as hard as he can.

Needless to say, they attempt to scatter, but wasps as big as Prompto himself should definitely catch fire pretty easily, and soon enough, most of the swarm is on fire, buzzing in panic before dropping one by one. Prompto watches as the remaining wasps retreat, and then he's alone again, the trident heavy in his other hand.

Man, he has no idea how he pulled that off, and he knows instincts alone can only keep him safe for so long.

Prompto stares at the trident for a moment. He lets go of it, and he watches as the royal weapon disintegrates into golden pieces and disappears into the ether before it can hit the ground. Another ability granted to him by the ring; Prompto wonders if he can still pull out the trident from the Armiger after this.

"Your Highness!"

Turning to look behind him, Prompto finds Nyx making his way towards him. Nyx is covered in soot, literally _smoking_ , and---

He's limping.

"Nyx?!" Prompto meets the Glaive halfway, and he stills Nyx by putting both hands on Nyx’s shoulders. "You okay? You're limping."

"Just landed wrong," Nyx grunts, and he blinks when Prompto drops on his knees. "What are you doing? And where's King Regis?"

Prompto hesitates at his second question, hands hovering over his leg, but eventually, he answers. "Yeah, uh, we---we got separated," Prompto slowly answers, and he watches as Nyx's face falls. "Look, stay still, okay? I got this, then we'll talk."

"You got what?"

He ignores Nyx in favour of focusing on healing Nyx's leg, and soon enough, his fingers glow gold, and then Nyx mutters, "it's the wrong leg."

" _Wow_ ," Prompto says. "You could've told me earlier."

"In my defence, I have _no idea_ what you're doing."

He audibly clicks his tongue as he switches to Nyx's other leg, mostly to mess with Nyx, and soon enough, Prompto heals his leg, standing up and dusting his hands against his pants as Nyx stretches his once injured leg to test it.

"There," Prompto says.

Nyx stares at him for a moment. "You...," he starts, then he makes a face. "You can heal?"

"What?" Now it's Prompto's turn to make a face at him. "Yes---wait, you don't know?"

"What?"

"Holy crap." Now, _some_ things make sense, mostly the crap that came out from Nyx's mouth when they were on their way to the Citadel a few hours ago, and Prompto loudly snorts, much to Nyx's annoyance.

" _Hey_."

"Oh, dude." Prompto grins at him as he walks past Nyx, then Nyx grabs his arm and points to the opposite direction.

"Wrong way," Nyx flatly says, with a flat look to match it, and Prompto giggles as he follows Nyx to the _right_ way, wherever it is.

They walk down the street side by side in silence. Insomnia feels like a ghost city, with how eerily empty it is despite the fact that the city had been under attack. There's nothing but the quiet gusts of wind and the threat of daemon attacks to accompany them. Prompto eyes one abandoned car with interest for a moment, and Nyx catches on, too. It was left open. They could use it, probably.

Nyx walks towards the car. "Captain Drautos connected with me during the fight with the mech," he says, opening the door and sitting in the driver's seat. He raises his eyebrows at the ignition, then he starts the engine. Whoever fled the car left the key, too, it seems. The engine hums to life, and Prompto makes his way to the passenger seat. "There. Anyway, he said to meet at section D. There's an extraction team waiting there to get us out of Insomnia." He looks at Prompto, who's already making himself comfortable beside Nyx. "It's our best bet."

Prompto shuts the door closed, looking ahead with a nod. "…Okay," he says. "We'll let them know about King Regis."

"Obviously," Nyx says, and the car starts moving. "You haven't told me what happened yet. Last time I saw you two together, you drove the car off the flyover." He makes a face. "You keep pulling off crazy shit."

"It was the king's idea."

"And you went with it." Nyx shakes his head. "You two are crazy."

It makes Prompto smile, at the very least.

Recalling how he and King Regis got separated leaves Prompto shaken, the memory of watching helplessly as the car skidded down the building haunting him. Even if he has the ring, how was he supposed to stop that? Could he have done something? Prompto knows Nyx would've figured something out, but---

"Forget it," Nyx suddenly says, and Prompto looks at him. "He's fine."

"How do you know?"

Nyx lifts his hand from the gear shifter and shows his hand to Prompto, palm up. He blinks, then he watches as fire bursts from Nyx's hand, spreading from the centre all the way to the tips of Nyx's fingertips. He looks up at Nyx, who immediately extinguishes the fire.

"My magic," Nyx starts, "comes from the king. He dies, and my magic dies with him." He pauses. "He's fine."

Prompto looks to the side, pressing his lips together as he watches the blur of monochrome colours pass by, and he nods, eventually, looking straight ahea. "He's fine," he repeats, mostly to convince himself.

They drive on in silence.

\--

Their rendezvous point is oddly empty of anyone who could belong to any extraction team. In fact, it's just as empty as the rest of the places he and Nyx passed by on their way here.

On the bright side, well, it's _bright_ here.

Their rendezvous point is a small plaza with a rotunda in the middle, brightly lit lights and stairs surrounding it. The plaza is untouched by Niflheim's attack, and Prompto can almost pretend he just sneaked out of the hotel to go on a tour late at night. All he has to do is to look down, though, at his torn and dirtied clothes, to break the illusion.

"Stay in front of me," Nyx tells him as they make their way to the rotunda, and Prompto does so without question. They stop in front of the rotunda, still without any sign of reinforcements, and Nyx clicks his tongue.

"Ulric, reporting!" Nyx loudly says, and it echoes throughout the place. "I have the prince with me." A pause. "And the ring."

Without giving Prompto a chance to process what he just said, Nyx tackles Prompto to the ground, twisting Prompto's arms behind him as he falls with a strangled yelp. It takes Prompto far too long to realise what's happening, even as he feels Nyx's hand gripping his wrists tightly and the other on his hand the wears the Ring of the Lucii. When Nyx slips the ring off his thumb is when it hits him, and he almost bursts into tears at the sickening feeling that grips his chest.

Nyx betrayed him.

"Nyx," Prompto says, _begs_ , but the Glaive only tightens his hold on Prompto's wrists. He struggles to breathe. "Please. Don't...Don't do this. _Nyx_."

"There's no other choice," is the cold answer, and Prompto shakes his head as he shuts his eyes tightly and inhales through his teeth.

It hurts. So much.

"You lied about King Regis, didn't you?" Even asking the question hurts, and he doesn't know what he'd do if Nyx confirms it, but Nyx doesn't answer, perhaps to spare Prompto from the hurt, or maybe because he doesn't care anymore, his job done.

"I know the truth, you guys," Nyx says out loud instead. "And you're all right. There's nothing in it for us with Lucis." Nyx holds the Ring of Lucii with his index finger and thumb against the light, for anyone who might be watching to see. "This is what you want, right? The ring. I'm giving the ring and the prince to you as my ticket into your group."

There's no answer, and Prompto bitterly chuckles as he presses his cheek against the concrete, blinking back tears. "They don't believe you."

"I don't blame them," Nyx says. "Everyone thought I was loyal to the crown." He raises his voice as he continues. "I'm only loyal to one thing and _one thing_ alone, though, and it's my _home_."

There's a beat of silence.

"Well said, Nyx." Prompto and Nyx look up, and going down the steps and towards them is a man Prompto doesn't recognise, but he, too, wears the Kingsglaive uniform, and so does the other men that show themselves one by one. It makes Prompto want to throw up.

Kingsglaive is a den of _snakes_.

"You know, a lot of us thought you're an idiot, but I guess you proved us wrong," the man says, and Prompto eyes the gun he holds. "And we didn't really have to set up an ambush, after all."

Nyx shrugs. "I guess I made the right call. Don't wanna die just yet."

The man with the gun looks at Prompto for a second before returning his gaze to Nyx. "And what of King Regis? We can all still use his magic."

Prompto stiffens.

"Not dead," Nyx admits, and the man frowns. "But only alive enough so that his magic is still usable, otherwise I wouldn't know how to convince Prince Charming here to come with me. You'll find him if you look hard enough."

Prompto grits his teeth, and the man smirks. "Apparently, you can think, too."

"I'm full of surprises."

The man holds out his hand. "Now, give me the ring."

"Aye, aye." And Prompto starts to struggle under Nyx's weight.

"No!" Prompto says, and he glares at the man when he looks at Prompto. "Don't give the ring! Nyx!"

"Luche, do you guys still have any use for him?" Nyx asks, unperturbed with Prompto's struggling under him. The man, Luche, shrugs.

"The order is to recover the ring."

"Don't give the ring!"

"Only the ring?"

"I _said_ don't give the ring!"

"Yes." Luche glares at Prompto. "He's only for tracking the ring down. There's no use for him anymore."

Nyx raises his eyebrows. "Tracking?"

Prompto screams at them both, and Nyx puts his hand over his mouth to muffle his scream.

"Yes." Another shrug. "I think he has something with him that's been fitted with a tracker. It doesn't matter now, though." Luche holds out his hand to Nyx. "The ring, Nyx."

Nyx shrugs, and he removes his hand from Prompto's mouth to finally give the ring to Luche. Prompto, in his desperate attempt to prolong the inevitable, resorts to threats.

"I'm the _Oracle_ ," he hisses, and Nyx stops.

"The Oracle?"

"Ignore him, Nyx," Luche says. "Give me the damn ring."

"You don't know what I _can_ do," Prompto continues, and he remembers what Aldercapt told him during that one dinner. "The Astrals' blessing runs in my veins. You don't want me flipping the _fuck_ out."

With a click of his tongue, Luche cocks his gun, and he points it at Prompto. "You won't do anything with this thing between your eyes, _Oracle_."

Prompto stares at the gun for a second, then at Luche. "Watch me."

Electricity explodes from him, the force throwing Nyx off him and pushing Luche several yards away, and Prompto spots the Ring of the Lucii glinting on the ground and Nyx lying unconscious on top of a destroyed post. He makes a dive for the ring as soon as Luche fires his gun, and Prompto manages to roll to his knees and summons his trident just in time to call forth a magical barrier to protect himself from all the attacks everyone in the area throws at him.

He watches as his barrier takes it all like a freaking champ, from Luche's gun to the magic the rest of the Kingsglaive throws at him. His barrier remains unrelenting.

"You’re a _fool_ ," Luche hisses, firing off another shot at Prompto's barrier, and they both watch as it reconstructs itself. "You think you can just sit there and take us all? You're not going to last."

"I don't have to!" Prompto yells as he slips the Ring of the Lucii back to his thumb. "I can take you all out _myself_. The Astrals protect me."

"He's bluffing," Luche shouts at his peers. "We all know how _Protect_ spells can easily break down under too much force. Overwhelm him!"

"That is _enough_."

The deep voice that echoes throughout the plaza holds so much authority that for a second, everyone stops, and Prompto, recognising the voice, turns behind him so fast, relief coursing through him as he shouts at the approaching figure.

"King Regis!"

King Regis, though with a cane, walks tall, and on his other hand is what looks like a small snowstorm going wild. He looks past Prompto, at Luche, at everyone surrounding Prompto. One of the traitorous Glaives attempts to shoot lightning at the king, only to find that his magic is no more, and King Regis scowls.

"You all," King Regis says, his voice thick with disdain, "are _traitors_."

He flings the white, unstable ball of magic towards them, and the entire area explodes with the overwhelming force of _Blizzaga_.

Prompto reinforces his barrier, and there is nothing to hear amidst the deafening howls of the wind and snow combined. He feels the sudden drop of temperature, but he knows that the cold he feels is nothing compared to the cold outside the protection of his magic. Ice starts to crawl over the barrier, only to get wiped off every time the barrier reinforces itself, and Prompto can't see anything save for the wildly whipping snow around him.

It's an unforgiving snowstorm brought upon traitorous subjects by a wrathful king.

It takes a long time, but the winds eventually die down, and Prompto can't see anything thanks to the thick blanket of snow that draped itself over his barrier. There's only silence, and then King Regis speaks.

"It's alright now," the king says behind him, and Prompto recalls his barrier, watching as the snow falls around him. He looks up.

And sees Nyx standing in front of him.

"Whoa, whoa! Hey!" Nyx yells as Prompto aggressively swings his trident at him, taking a few steps away from the agitated prince. "I know! Shit move, right? I'm so fucking _sorry_. I really had no choice."

"You---!" Prompto wheezes, dropping the trident as he puts his hand over his face, the other digging into the snow as he tries to even his breathing. "I thought---I _really_ thought---"

"I know." He hears Nyx's feet crunch against the snow, then Nyx is kneeling in front of him. "It was also the king's idea." A pause. "I'm really sorry."

Prompto chokes out a laugh, looking up at Nyx through the gaps of his fingers. Nyx is covered in soot again, likely a result of Prompto using lightning to throw him off, and there's a cut on his temple now, surely from when he hit the now destroyed post not too far from where Prompto currently kneels. He takes his hand off his face, wiping the tears that now stain his cheeks. "Right," he says. "I would've appreciated a _warning_."

"Forgive me, Prompto," King Regis says as he makes his way to Prompto and Nyx. The king now returns to limping, and he looks as if he aged a few more years. "It was the only way I thought that would convince them enough to show themselves."

Prompto supposes he really can't get mad at Nyx and the king; looking around him now is a good reason not to. The entire place is blanketed by thick snow, and the Glaives who were once surrounding Prompto are now nothing but statues of ice. He was bait, Prompto realises, to smoke out the traitors, and he exhales, looking at Nyx once then at the king before saying, "you guys are crazy."

Nyx laughs. “You did get a good number outta me,” he says. King Regis smiles a weathered smile.

Another man helps King Regis walk now, a bit bigger than Nyx and sporting the same braid, and he nods at Prompto once as he stands up.

"Your Highness," the man says in greeting, and Prompto nods back at him before smiling a little.

"Hey," Prompto says, and he sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Very befitting a prince. "Sorry you have to see me crying."

"Yeah, you're not very good at first impressions," Nyx says as he steps beside Prompto, and he gives Prompto a knowing smile before gesturing at the other man. "His Highness Prompto Argentum, Libertus Ostium. He was a Glaive, too."

"Was?"

"I...made mistakes," Libertus admits. "I'm here to set them right."

"Nyx found me, then he found us," King Regis explains, leaning on Libertus for support. "And told us everything he knows. This meeting is supposed to be a trap to capture the ring." He looks at Prompto with despair in his eyes. "You have something that they've installed a tracking device into, it seems. One that they know you won't part with, no matter what."

Prompto stares at King Regis for a second too long, and he mutely looks down at his feet. That can't be it, can it? But _what else_ does Prompto have? Biting his lower lip, he fishes out his camera from his pocket, the chocobo keychain reflecting the light on its polished edges. He holds on to it tightly, knuckles turning white.

"...It's this, isn't it?"

King Regis hesitates to answer, but he replies, eventually. "It is."

Prompto shuts his eyes tightly, and he recalls how the camera was his only grounding point when everything was lost to him and how it was the only thing lighting up his dark world, no matter how artificial its light is. This camera carries everything that Prompto loves and cherishes more than his life, a constant reminder of what he wants to fight for, and he never thought he will part with it like this.

Nyx's hand is on his shoulder, warm and gentle, and Prompto exhales a shaky breath. "I'll take care of it," Nyx tells him. "So you don't have to."

Prompto doesn't think he can, anyway, so he gives the camera to the Glaive and staggers to the nearest bench. He sits with his head in his hands as Nyx walks off to destroy the camera.

He pretends not to hear anything.

\--

It's quicker than he thought it would be, and as usual, he doesn't have time to mourn what he's lost.

Not too long after Nyx had gone to destroy the camera, he's running back to them immediately, and there is a look of concern on his face. It's enough to bring Prompto out of his godsdamn misery, and he stands as soon as Nyx reaches them.

"Problem," Nyx says. "I found the prince's car parked not too far from here."

Prompto blinks. "Noct's car?"

"He's not one of those ice statues, is he?" Libertus asks, and King Regis shakes his head before Nyx can answer.

"I'm afraid not."

"Wait, what?" Prompto looks at them in bewilderment. Is Noct here? Why do they want him as an ice statue? Nyx looks at Prompto, his eyebrows furrowed as he frowns, and he clears it up for Prompto.

"Someone else is driving Prince Noctis' car, pretending to be a good captain of the Kingsglaive," Nyx explains. Prompto blinks. "And looks like he's here with us."

There's a crunch of snow behind Prompto, then a brandishing of a sword, and Nyx pulls Prompto to him and casts a barrier against General Glauca's greatsword. Prompto hears Libertus _yell stay behind me, Your Majesty!_ but he can't bring himself to look behind him, not when the general is _this_ close to almost killing him.

Nyx's grip on his shoulder tightens.

"All of this," General Glauca starts to say, forcing his greatsword down Nyx's barrier. It creates cracks the barrier cannot fix. "Is futile. Insomnia has fallen, the Crystal is gone, and the daemons are loose." As he says this, gargantuan Magitek airships fly over the city, and Prompto sees that these airships carry daemons thrice the height of the Citadel.

They intend to pound Insomnia to pieces.

"Surrender the ring," Glauca says.

"Uh," Prompto replies, eyes wide at the general and pretending he is _totally_ not horrified, "you suck at this pep talk thing. I'm _thoroughly_ disappointed. Zero out of ten."

Lightning crackles behind them, and it connects with Glauca, throwing him away from Nyx and Prompto, and summoning a ball of fire, Prompto does a follow up attack and flings the ball at the general. It explodes upon contact, and Glauca flies further back and away from them. He stays still when he lands on his back.

Prompto curls and uncurls his smoking fingers. "I'm totally getting better at this."

"That guy is like weed. He just won't _die_ ," Nyx hisses, grabbing Prompto again and pulling him close to himself, then he pushes Prompto to King Regis and Libertus, who, by the looks of it, is the one who shot the lightning at the general. "Go. I'll take Glauca on."

Prompto spins to gape at him. "What?"

The ground shakes, far too powerful to be normal, and a few buildings collapse a few blocks away from them. The giant daemons are set free to do what they want with the city. Prompto looks at Nyx.

"And those things?" he asks.

"I'll figure something out," Nyx immediately replies. Well, that's the shittiest kind of answer Prompto has ever heard.

"No," King Regis says, taking a step towards the pair, but he stumbles and is caught by Libertus. "There is…no way you can do anything against those daemons." He looks at Prompto, wide eyed. "Not without the ring."

He stares at King Regis for a moment, and everything suddenly clicks into place. Oh, _of course_. He is the Oracle, those are daemons, and he has the ring that has a power as old as the line of the kings sealed within it.

It's an obvious choice.

"I'll do it," Prompto says, and Nyx makes a noise behind him as King Regis expression turns to regret.

"No way," Nyx says. "Your Majesty, you're going to allow this?" He looks at the king, and when he sees King Regis' expression, his face falls. " _Your Majesty_."

"I’ve grown too weak to command the ring," King Regis ruefully says, "and I cannot allow any more to sacrifice themselves attempting to wear the ring. He is the Oracle, the one who has the power to significantly weaken these daemons. It's the only answer." He looks at Prompto. "I'm putting your life in danger once again. I’m sorry."

Prompto grins. "Nah, I'll be fine. Remember what I said? I'm protected by the Astrals. Or an Astral, I guess. I'll be fine."

Raising his head, Libertus looks behind them, and his eyes widen. "He's waking up," he says, and true enough, General Glauca stirs, and then he's standing up with his sword as support. Prompto looks at King Regis and Libertus.

"Go," Prompto says, and he points at the direction Nyx came from. "Get Noct's car. It will totally suck if that doesn't get out of the city. I'm sure it's a nice ride."

King Regis nods, taking a step back with Libertus' support. "Our hope goes with you," hesays. "Godspeed, Prompto, Nyx."

"We will be waiting for the both of you outside the city," Libertus adds, "on the west gate. Neither of you get late." Prompto and Nyx nod at them.

And then they're gone. Prompto doesn't bother watching them flee and turns to look at Nyx, who shakes his head at him.

"You're crazy," he tells Prompto, and he smiles at Nyx as he summons his trident. It appears in his hand with a flash of gold.

"Tell me something I don't know," Prompto replies.

"You're probably the bravest guy I know."

Prompto's smile widens at that as General Glauca takes a step towards them. "Oh, yeah? I gotta jet, though. Take care of Glauca for me."

"That's the plan."

Prompto turns on his heel and bolts to the daemons' direction. He hears a loud crunch behind him, and then Glauca lands in front of him, raising his greatsword and swinging it down towards Prompto.

Lightning hits Glauca, though, and he stumbles back.

"Go!" Nyx yells, and he flings his dagger towards them and warp strikes Glauca. The general grunts as they stumble further from Prompto. "I got this!"

Prompto quickly nods at him, tightening his hold on his trident, and he throws the royal weapon as far as he can and disappears in a flurry of gold.

\--

Prompto isn't very good at this warping bullshit.

He rolls and tumbles and almost throws up his non-existent dinner when he reappears, bright gold peeling away from his skin, and he finds that he actually didn't get very far from Nyx and Glauca. That's _very_ embarrassing, but he'll dwell on it later when he's actually very far from Glauca's sight.

So he focuses on getting the hell out of there.

The ground is continuously shaking, the roads cracking and separating and buildings collapsing with every roar of the daemons, and, okay, maybe this isn't the best decision he has made his entire life. He's stumbling and tripping every five seconds, and he is almost swallowed whole by the ground once.

In short, Prompto has no idea what he's doing, but that's what he does best, anyway.

Soon enough, Prompto manages to find a clearing, and he stumbles his way there. Looking up, he sees two or three of the giant daemons rampaging throughout the city. He kneels on one knee, one hand clutching the trident tightly as he looks at the Ring of Lucii wrapped around his thumb.

"Okay, buddy," he tells the ring, commanding the power it holds to listen to him. He feels it bend to his will, tugging in his gut as it slowly sucks away his strength. "Let's show them who's boss."

Flickering images surround him, ones that he doesn't make sense of, but he feels something snap in his head, and he sees the most _badass_ thing ever.

There's a flicker of bright blue in the distance where one of the daemons is, and warping in front of it is one of the giant, humanoid statues Prompto saw once. Bright blue surrounds it as it materialises in front of the daemon, and it swings the giant mace it has onto the daemon's gut, pushing it back with a sickening _crack_.

Prompto loudly cheers. _This is the might of the Old Wall._

Another one of the statues warps to where Prompto is, and its feet breaks through the ground as it materialises far from him. Prompto stumbles, and turning behind him, he sees the statue with the trident, the one he tried to take a picture of, and it holds out its hand to him, beckoning him to climb up.

"Holy shit." And Prompto scrambles to its hand, screaming with glee as it slowly closes its fingers around him and lifts him to its shoulder. Prompto stabs the trident onto its shoulder to secure his footing, and he finds that he can see the entirety of Insomnia from this height. Three daemons up north, one on the west, two on the northeast, and two on the east. Eight daemons, and there are thirteen statues of the Old Wall.

Prompto nods determinedly to himself. "I know what to do," he says, and he leads his statue to the nearest daemon.

\--

The plan is simple: lead all the daemons in one place, and then kill them all at once; weaken the daemons with the Oracle's magic if they're being a bunch of stubborn assholes. It is risky, considering Prompto has to be the one to land the killing blow, and he only has one shot to do it, and he's never used the magic that's needed to kill them before. The magic he is to use is something more of an emergency thing, a _use only once when you think you're about to die_ thing. He almost used it when he was trapped in a Magitek airship, he would've used it to save King Regis from Glauca if the ring wasn't such a godsdamn tease that moment, and he is going to use it now against these daemons.

If it goes awry, then, well, can the Old Wall still function when the one who wields them passes the fuck out?

He tries not to think about it when he has more important things to worry about, such as not falling off the statue he is on as it warps to the nearest daemon. He almost falls off when it materialises in front of the daemon, and, _gods_ , warping with another is much worse than warping on his own; Prompto doesn't feel his limbs for a good second as the statue rams its trident onto the daemon, and he manages to cling onto his own trident with a yelp when the daemon attempts to retaliate with a slash of its claws. The statue stumbles back, and the daemon follows.

"Good, good!" Prompto yells, scrambling to straighten himself on the statue's shoulder. "Lead it to the other daemons!"

As the wielder of the Old Wall, he's connected to the other statues as well, and he knows that they, too, are doing what he has in mind. The daemon that his statue is baiting is annoyingly aggressive, though, and it swipes at the statue with a roar before immediately following up with taking one of the statue's arms and tearing it off.

_Holy crap._

Prompto stumbles along with the statue, sliding forwards and grabbing his trident as he jumps off, and he warps to the daemon's head and digs the trident into the daemon's forehead when he materializes. He tears a deep gash through the daemon's forehead as he slides down with the trident, and the daemon wails as steam emerges from its open wound, holy magic searing through it.

Prompto dangles on the daemon's face, and he swallows, determinedly avoiding to look down.

"H-Hey," Prompto starts, and he thinks he's going to go deaf at the daemon's angry roar. He immediately wiggles the trident free and plummets down as the daemon punches its own damn face.

It's hilarious, but he's also free falling to his death, so it's not that hilarious.

He desperately attempts to twist his body and angle himself to a better warping position, and he manages to face the quickly approaching ground before throwing the trident and warping towards it. He materialises to the ground with gold in his wake, tumbling with a grace only Prompto Argentum can ever muster, and when he finally flops on his back, he quickly realises that he landed between the two giants. Prompto quickly scrambles away as his statue takes a step to tear through the daemon they're supposed to bait.

The shaking throws him off the ground, and he tumbles and rolls as he hears the daemon's dying cries as it collapses to a nearby skyscraper.

Okay, that is one daemon down, he supposes; Prompto isn't complaining.

His knees shaking as he slowly stands up, Prompto quickly takes note of how, even though he's on the ground, it feels as if he can still see the entirety of Insomnia. Four of the daemons are cornered together now, while two more are being pushed towards the four daemons. He lost two of the Old Wall in the fight, and all of the remaining is damaged to a certain degree. Though missing an arm, the statue with the trident is still totally game with getting back into action, and it easily takes Prompto back to its shoulder and quickly makes its way to the rest of the daemons and the Old Wall.

\--

Lumping a bunch of giant daemons a hundred times Prompto's height in one place turns out to be really, really hard and needs more than Prompto's active participation with his abilities as Oracle.

These daemons are not ordinary daemons; if anything, they were modified to function more like a walking warship. Prompto didn't expect the freaking _missiles_ , and he lost his free ride when one of the daemons went with that attack. Since then, Prompto doesn't remain on one statue, pushing himself to the limit as he warps from one daemon to another, gracing them with his holy presence and leaving them reeling despite his puny, ant size.

It takes hours, but the rest of the daemons are cornered now, six daemons encircled by ten remaining statues of the Old Wall, and Prompto warps to the nearest building but prematurely materialises. He drops to the rooftop and tumbles awfully, almost twisting his ankle and letting go of the trident, and it skids across the ground and away from him.

Prompto grits his teeth as he pushes himself off the ground and crawls to the trident. His arms are peppered with cuts and bruises, all results of his graceful landings every time he warps, and he hit his head once when a daemon tried to tackle the statue he was on, leaving one side of his face to be speckled with dried blood from his cut temple. He'd been going all out since he lost three of the Old Wall now, and he's running out of fumes. He has to finish this _now_.

He crawls to the trident and picks it up, and with it, he forces himself to stand up on his remaining strength, which quickly diminishes as time goes by. Prompto is only just on his knees, though, when he realises someone is falling from the sky towards him, greatsword out, and his teeth clatter together as he holds out one hand to summon a barrier against General Glauca's sword. Prompto's hand shakes at the force, and the barrier isn't reconstructing itself as quickly as he would like. General Glauca's thick armour has been stripped down to pieces, and Prompto can already see half of the general's face in his helmet.

Nyx did mention that the driver of Noct's car pretends to be a good captain of the Kingsglaive. Glauca---or Drautos, _whatever_ \---forces his sword down, and Prompto's hand almost bends to the force, his shield cracking. Prompto wheezes as he struggles to maintain the barrier, feeling something cold roll down from his nose--- _blood_ \---and Glauca smiles.

"You are on your last legs, Oracle," he says, and he swings his sword once, breaking Prompto's shield and throwing him back. The trident clatters away from Prompto once more. "You are foolish to challenge the Empire. Truly, it was impressive how you commanded the ring's power, but you will never last, for you are _weak."_

"Fuck you," Prompto hisses, and he holds out his hand to summon lightning against Glauca, but Glauca simply deflects the lightning behind Prompto, and he takes Prompto's hand so tightly that Prompto lets out a pained scream.

"Surrender the ring," Glauca says, and Prompto tightly curls his other hand where he wears the ring, "and I'll impart one last mercy if you do."

"Ha ha," Prompto wheezes out, "And I'm Kenny Crow."

Glauca bends his hand backwards, and Prompto screams again. The Old Wall responds to his pain, but he wills them to stay and to keep the daemons at bay. Glauca is _this_ close to breaking his wrist, he really is, but there's a roar of thunder to their side, and bright lightning strikes Glauca away from Prompto. The force of it makes Glauca roll and tumble like a stone skipping water, all the way to the other end of the building where he falls.

Prompto's eyes are wide at where Glauca has fallen, and soon enough, Nyx materialises in front of him in a flash of blue and holds Prompto's head to face him.

"Holy shit," Nyx says, his eyes wide at Prompto's face. "You're bleeding."

"It's dry. I stopped bleeding an hour ago."

Nyx raises an eyebrow at him, and he moves one hand from Prompo's hair to wipe the blood from his nose. "Stopped bleeding, huh?"

Prompto grimaces. "I...didnt know about that."

The daemons roar behind them, and Prompto gently pries Nyx's hands off him, trying not to wince over his injured wrist. It would be a sprain at worst. He's lucky. "Go," Prompto says, letting go of Nyx's hands. "Glauca is still alive, and so are those daemons. We have our own monsters to kill."

Nyx glances behind Prompto, at the trapped daemons, and he nods, reaching out for the trident and handing it to Prompto. "Don't die."

Prompto smirks as he takes the trident with his good hand. "I could say the same to you."

Nyx makes his way to where Glauca fell, and giving Prompto one last look, he jumps down to go after Glauca.

Prompto slowly makes his way to the edge of the building, facing the daemons held together by the slowly crumbling Old Wall. With the trident, he makes himself stand straighter, and he closes his eyes, his free hand moving up and closing itself around Ravus' locket.

This time, he allows the unfamiliar chill of magic overtake him, tugging at him, _demanding_ him to call upon it, and he does. He feels the temperature around him significantly drop, the wind blowing a little bit harsher, and when Prompto opens his eyes again, anyone who would've seen him will immediately see the change in his eyes: from the vibrant blue to the unnatural glow of magenta.

 _An Astral's mark is singed deep in your soul,_ the kings said.

At first, Prompto thought they meant the Draconian's blessing on the line of the Oracle, but _this_ is what they really meant.

Snow falls, the wind picks up speed, and Prompto watches as he sees his own breath. He feels a hand on his shoulder, so cold it feels like ice itself touched him, and when he turns to his side, he grins.

"Shiva."

Shiva stands beside him in his full Glacian glory, beads of ice and splashes of blue adorning his body, and he quirks an eyebrow at Prompto before dropping himself off the building, then he soars into the sky, followed by multiples of him. They encircle the trapped daemons as snow follows their trail.

The wind picks up once again, blowing harsh cold against Prompto's face; he shivers as he exhales; and the sun bleeds through the horizon as dawn slowly but surely breaks, snow sprinkling all over Insomnia.

It's a breathtaking sight, if Prompto ignores the screeching daemons.

Ice starts to form at the daemons' feet, the sound of crackling ice mixing with the daemons' roaring as they struggle to escape, but the statues of the Old Wall push them back, crowding them until the thick ice renders them immobile. Every attempt to escape becomes futile, and Prompto watches with satisfaction as the last of the daemons' screams die out, their entire bodies encased in a thick block of ice.

The statues of the Old Wall fall back, weapons and fists ready, and with one synchronised movement, they all destroy the blocks of ice, shattering them to millions of enormous pieces. The pieces fall to the ground with notable, deafening crashes.

There's a moment of silence, the cold biting into Prompto's skin, and Shiva gives him one last look before slowly breaking away and becoming one with the falling snow.

Prompto breathes out, feels the fatigue sink into his bones along with the cold. "I'll see you outside Insomnia," he tells the gently drizzling snow, and he closes his eyes and feels gravity pull him down.

\--

The first thing Prompto notices is the crunching of feet into the snow. It's a steady _crunch, crunch, crunch,_ as steady as his heartbeat and as steady as whoever's back he's leaning against. It's the second thing Prompto realises: that someone is carrying him on their back. He doesn't bother moving, though, because as soon as he opens his eyes, he closes them again, breathing out.

_Warm._

"You awake, Highness?" a deep voice asks, completely shaking Prompto awake, and he slowly realises he just said what he thought out loud. Nyx turns his head to look at him, and he raises his eyebrows. He stops walking, too. "You okay?"

"I'm...," Prompto starts, and he slowly straightens himself. He's wearing Nyx's coat. "Oh."

"'Oh' what?"

"S-Sorry," Prompto says, "I'm okay. Please put me down."

Nyx puts him down as requested, and his feet dig into the snow. It gets all the way past his ankles. Prompto blinks. "The snow's pretty deep."

"Sure is," Nyx says, "but I guess that's what happens when you summon the Glacian to do the nasty work for you."

Prompto stares at him for a second, then he breaks into a grin. "You saw that? What, I was really _cool_ , yeah?"

Nyx snorts. "Oh, yeah, _totally_ ," he says. " So cool, you were dying from hypothermia. I saw you fall off the damn building and found you buried in the snow. What the hell, you almost gave me a _heart attack_."

Prompto's face immediately falls at that. "Oh," he says again, and at least this time, he has the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry."

"You're fine," Nyx says with a shrug, "I don't mind as long as you're not dead. The king's gonna have my head if I let you die." He gestures at the road ahead of them, blanketed with snow. Actually, the entirety of Insomnia is covered in snow. It looks kind of pretty, if Prompto has to be honest. "Let's keep going. Can you walk?"

Prompto nods. "Yeah, I can."

They continue to walk in silence, Prompto slowly folding the sleeves of Nyx's Kingsglaive coat. They go way, _way_ past his hands, and the coat itself practically drowns Prompto in it. Nyx is too freaking big. _Unfair_.

"...Thanks," Prompto says in the silence instead of grumbling out his thoughts, "for the coat."

"Well, you kinda needed the warmth so you don't die on me."

"So you really found me buried in the snow?"

"Totally. Only your leg was sticking out. I had to dig you out."

"Oh, man. I owe you, dude."

Nyx breathes out a laugh, smirking at Prompto. "A drink, then."

Prompto shrugs, returning his smile. "Fine, a drink. Though it's going to take a while before you get that."

Prompto stops walking, looking at Nyx as he, too, stops. He sends Prompto a questioning look. "We can always get some when we get out of the city with the king and Libertus, right?"

"No."

Nyx stares at him. Prompto continues. "I have...my own plans, and I intend to do them on my own."

"You know the king won't allow that."

"That's why I plan to leave now. Please tell King Regis I'll be fine."

"What if I said no?"

Prompto chews on his bottom lip, looking down. "I have to do this on my own, Nyx. You know I'm the Oracle. I have a duty to fulfil."

"I have a duty to fulfil, too," Nyx replies. "It's to keep you safe."

Prompto sighs. "That stopped mattering when we went off to fight our own fights back there," he says. "It also doesn't matter now, either. I still have my own fight to fight. You..." He pauses. "You can go back home, if you want."

"Galahd as it is now isn't my home," Nyx immediately replies. Prompto visibly deflates at his answer, but Nyx continues. "Besides, I can't really go home if I got the king with me. We'll have to lay low." He pauses, and he looks conflicted for a moment, but, eventually, he says, "I guess you going off on your own won't grab anyone's attention."

Prompto gapes at Nyx for a moment, processing what he just said, and when it finally clicks, Prompto immediately beams at him, arms spreading out for a hug. "Nyx! Dude!"

"Ah, ah, I'm not yet done." Nyx takes a step back from him and raises both hands, and one hand drops to his side while the other's fingers curls until only his index finger is left straight up. "One condition before I let you go."

"Sure!" Prompto chirps, dropping his hands to his sides. "Anything."

"Take this with you." Nyx brings out one of his curved daggers, holding the hilt towards Prompto, and he stares at the hilt, at the fine, intricate carvings on the dark wood. There's something attached to it, Prompto realises, and his eyes trail down on the attached string until---

Prompto gasps; attached on the dagger's hilt is the _chocobo keychain_.

"By the _Six_." Prompto immediately takes the dagger and clutches the hilt as he studies the keychain. It still looks exactly the same as when he had given the camera to Nyx, and he looks up at the Glaive with a big grin and shoves Nyx. "You're such an _asshole_."

Nyx snorts as he sways to the side. "I saved your favourite keychain, and that's the thanks I get?"

Prompto rolls his eyes, but he's still grinning. "You're gonna let me go anyway, but you still had to defy me!"

"It's boring if I didn't, you know."

"Dick."

"Smartass."

Prompto laughs out loud, and when he finally calms down, he takes a deep breath, holding the dagger close to his chest. There's a beat of silence. "...Take good care of King Regis, okay? You and Libertus, too."

"Of course," Nyx says with a shrug. "What about you? How are we supposed to know you're not dead?"

"Oh, you'll know," Prompto says with a knowing smile, "since I'm pretty sure the entire world would know."

"So you're still showing up in Altissia."

"That's the plan." Prompto pauses, and he shrugs, smiling at the keychain. "Preferably with Noctis."

Nyx is quiet for a moment, then he nods, eventually. "You better get going, then," he says, and he sticks his thumb behind him. "Time's ticking. I'll take care of explaining things to King Regis."

Prompto nods, and he takes off Nyx's coat to return it. Nyx wordlessly takes it, and with a final nod, Prompto walks off. Nyx stays in place, simply watching as Prompto leaves, and while the snow continues to fall down, it isn't as cold as it was before.

 _Crunch, crunch, crunch_ , Prompto's feet say as he walks through the snow. He thinks about Cor and Umbra waiting for him outside of Insomnia and about the kinds of mess he's about to get himself into.

 _Crunch, crunch, crunch._ Prompto looks at the dagger, and he thinks how without Nyx, he wouldn't even be walking away alone.

This whole trip really would’ve sucked if Nyx weren’t here.

He stops, and he spins to look at Nyx, who's shrugging the coat back on. Prompto calls out to him, waving his hand at the Glaive as he looks back at Prompto. When Nyx finally looks at him, Prompto drops his hand, and he smiles at Nyx with all the warmth he feels put into it, and along with it, three words.

"Nyx, thank you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- prompto: i'm like dropping hints that i can summon an astral  
> \- prompto: i can summon an astral  
> \- bet u guys 5 bucks noct got his awful driving skills from regis  
> \- i, for the life of me, can't figure who was the asshole who shot nyx. i assumed it was luche and that stuck with me until now. wikipedia says it's lazarus. who the fuck is lazarus?
> 
> \- things that i couldn't add into the ending bc i honestly think that last scene was a great closing scene: 1) prompto met cor and umbra outside of insomnia, 2) he reads nocts message, and it's a groupie with noct and the girls that says "finally meeting you after 12 yrs", 3) cor points out prompto isn't as soaked in his own blood as before (hint: nyx cleaned him up when he was still unconscious), 4) prompto keeps the dagger in the armiger but gives the trident to cor so that cor won't leave him on his own throughout his journey (a+ blackmailing skills)
> 
> \- things that happened in between prompto passing out and prompto waking up in far better details bc i'm not gonna write that: 1) nyx kills glauca p much the same way as the movie except with snow and his arm isn't burned and he isn't dying, 2) he watches as the old wall destroy the giant block of ice, 3) he looks at the building where he left prompto and watches in horror when prompto fucking drops off the damn building, 4) he finds this giant snow hill where prompto fell and sees prompto's leg sticking out of the top of the hill, 5) he climbs that shit and digs prompto out, finds prompto pale and shivering and he's probably going to die FUCK, 6) nyx spends the next hour or two inside of the most stable building he can find and does everything he can to keep prompto warm (bundling prompto in his coat, starting a fire, using his BODY HEAT *deg deg face*), 7) when the colour returns to prompto and he stops shivering, nyx then cleans him up, mostly his face and arms bc they look gross with all those dried blood, 8) he heaves prompto on his back and carries him all the way until prompto woke up. the end. someone make a promnyx out of this.


	8. storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _the king is well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo it's been almost two months since the last chapter:
> 
> \- here's the guy y'all have been pestering me about. thank you for your patience!  
> \- this chapter is a short one, and it's kinda more like a "what is UP, prince noctis?" kinda chapter.  
> \- this is NOT what i originally have planned for chapter 8. this chapter is supposed to be written in cor's point of view, where prompto is supposed to punch ardyn, but then i realised that chapter is literally going against everything that has been established in this story (except for the punching. ardyn kinda deserves that one), so i was like "nah, fuck that" and dumped that chapter. the only thing i'm sad about dumping that chapter is not being able to write prompto punching ardyn.
> 
> \- I FOUND [MORE](https://twitter.com/ReapTheRavens/status/844628040676200448) [ART](https://twitter.com/excusemetobio/status/838417722572623872) FOR DE NOVO! seriously you guys, thank you so, so, so much! i always end up just stumbling into them by accident, though, so if you made any nice stuff for this fic, you're more than free to tag me! i'm at twitter on @clearestrod and at tumblr on @happyprompto, though chances are you'll find me more in twitter instead.
> 
> as usual, the fateswap au is by chocobaes on tumblr! go check them out!

"Great news," Aranea drawls out as she steps into their shared caravan, shaking the rainwater out of her hair. She's gripping her phone tightly, and there's a glint in her eyes that signifies that she's highly amused at the situation, and _that_ tells Noctis that whatever news she's about to tell them, it's not a great one. Noctis loudly groans.

Iris flings a towel at the older woman, frowning at the droplets of water that are slowly forming a small puddle under Aranea's feet. "Don't you dare take another step," she warns. "Stay by the doorway." Aranea rolls her eyes.

"Fine," she replies, and she puts her phone on the stove beside the doorway before wrapping her hair with the towel. "Anyway, the great news is divided into bad news and good news. Which one first?"

"Who cares," Noctis drawls from the top bed. He hasn't bothered to move since this morning. Like it matters, though. With the nasty weather that suddenly gripped Duscae and the fact that they lost the Regalia, they're not likely to leave Wiz's Chocobo Post any time soon. "Just get on with it."

Aranea raises a brow at Noctis, then her gaze moves to Luna, who's most likely sitting on the bed under Noct's. "How do you put up with that? He's rude _and_ boring as hell."

" _Hey_ ," Noctis grunts, propping himself up with his elbows as Luna giggled.

"I'm surprised you're asking me; you've known him since he was young."

"He's your best friend and I am an adult. I deal with him with a mug of vodka."

" _Hey_ , I'm here!"

"Ugh, you guys!" Iris snaps, and all of them turn to look at her. "We’re getting sidetracked here. If Noct says to just get on with it, then we should." She waves her hand at Aranea. "Start with the bad news."

Aranea shrugs. "Okay," she says, and she puts a hand against the stove and leans on it. "Bad news, Duscae is under lockdown; Niflheim started blocking all major roads leading out of the region. There's no way out."

Everyone save for Aranea groans.

Noctis flops back into his bed. "What's the good news?"

"I got hold of Cindy just a while ago and asked for help with the Regalia," Aranea replies. "She's on the case, but I think it's pretty obvious that the Niffs got our sweet ride after that whole mess with the Archaean."

"'Course it is," Noctis grumbles. He hears Luna hum her agreement under his bed.

"I told Cindy that," Aranea continues, "so she could easily narrow down the possible whereabouts of the Regalia. We'll probably hear from her in a day or two."

"So...," Iris starts, tapping her foot against the caravan's carpeted floor, "that's the good news? We wait for Cindy to ring us for the next few days?"

Aranea snorts. "Nah," she replies, and she turns her gaze back at Noct before jerking her chin outside. "Your dog's outside, pretty boy."

"What?" Noctis immediately sits up, eyes widening at Aranea before turning his attention at the caravan's only window. Rain pours down heavily against the glass. "Umbra's here?"

"That's the good news," Aranea says as Noctis jumps off the top bed and wrestles his boots on. "We should go see him."

They find Umbra sitting in front of the chocobo pens, watching the birds intently as if thinking of taking one with him. Noctis whistles at Umbra, and the dog immediately responds, standing on all fours and bounding towards Noctis' outstretched arms.

"Hey, boy," Noctis says with a laugh as Umbra practically vibrates in his arms and reaches up and licks his face. Noctis scratches behind Umbra's ears. "Glad you're okay. I haven't seen you in a while."

There's a click, and Noctis turns to frown at Luna, who giggles and innocently tucks her phone into her pocket. "It's just something to show Prompto," she says, and at the mention of his fiancée, Noctis looks back at Umbra as he wriggles out of Noct's embrace.

"Do you have something from Prompto?" Noctis asks, hopeful. Prompto ceased contact after the fall of Insomnia, and this is the first time Umbra came back since then. He knows better than to think Prompto is dead, of course, but he'd been missing, and so is Noct's father, and while he already knows that Prompto is fine thanks to Titan, he can't help but think of the worst.

Now, though, Umbra is here, and Noctis is already reaching out towards Umbra's back when the dog suddenly bolts, running off into the bushes, and Noctis eyes the bright album sticking out of the dog's back until he disappears into the bushes. He stands up and follows Umbra.

"C'mon, guys."

It doesn't take long to find Umbra again, though they're already quite a distance away from Wiz's Chocobo Post and also out of the way. When Noct's group nears Umbra, he runs off again, and Noctis groans.

"Really." He stops for a moment to catch his breath. Aranea steps to his side, her green eyes scanning the area around.

"Well, dogs love to play around," she says. Noctis shakes his head.

"Umbra really isn't that kind of a dog."

Aranea stops, and she reaches a hand towards Noct's arm. "Hey," she says, voice uncharacteristically soft, and she points at the figure standing not too far away from the group. Noctis follows her gaze, and he, too, stops.

"...Cor."

The Oracle's Messenger and guardian stands in front of them. He still looks the same after all these years, and he regards the group with cool detachment, as he always does and as Noctis remembers, and he sees how the rain doesn't affect Cor. Compared to Noctis and his retinue that are soaking wet under the harsh pounding of the rain, Cor looks dry and unbothered with the storm.

"It's been a while, King," Cor says, and Noctis unknowingly stands straighter and nods.

"Likewise," he replies. "...Where's Prompto?"

"Waiting," Cor says, and he turns to look behind him, at the flash of lightning in the distance. "The Fulgurian calls you for a covenant,” he says. “The lightning marks your goal. Go to it, and when the mark of the Fulgurian is yours..." Cor looks back at Noctis, and there's a hint of a knowing smirk. Quite uncharacteristic of the ice cold companion Noctis knew back in Tenebrae. "The Oracle will find you."

Wind blows, colder than the rain, and Noctis visibly shivers as he wraps his arms around himself. When he looks up, though, Cor is gone, and in his place is Umbra, looking at Noctis expectantly. He sighs.

"The...The hell?" Iris quips behind Noct, and he can hear her teeth chattering. "It's so cold already. I can't believe he did that!"

Luna chuckles, but she, too, has her arms around herself, rubbing hands against her bare biceps to make heat. Her colourful bracelets jiggle along the movement. "That was a short and straightforward message, though. I've read about the Messengers and all, and I expected him to speak…a bit more cryptic than that. I suppose it's foolish to assume that."

Noctis snorts. "Yeah, speaking cryptic poetry is not his thing." Despite the sudden cold, Noctis drops to his knees, ignoring the mud that is now staining his pants, and he reaches onto Umbra's back to pull out the yellow book tied on his back.

The album is his and Prompto's only means of communication for over a decade, and with it are messages and photos that have grown old and worn just like the album. It has become absurdly thick, every page filled to the brim with letters and photos that leave no space to make up for the fact that they haven't sent a letter for a week, and even though it's too much for one album to handle, it's never enough.

Noctis turns the album to the latest entry, and his smile falls. It's practically empty, a stark contrast to the pages that were made heavy by papers and glue. There is no photo, and his fingers trace the sloppy cursive of Prompto's writing.

 _my prayers and blessings are with you, noct_ , is what's written on the top of the page, blue pen and all, _when the trial is over, i'll come find you. i promise!_

Behind him, Aranea loudly snorts, and Noctis immediately shuts the book in his hands. _Ugh_. "That's cute," Aranea says. "The Oracle is the one who comes saving the Prince."

"That's not how the fairytales go," Iris chirps in. Noctis groans.

"Do you guys have nothing better to do than to make fun of me?" he says. He stands up and waves at the girls to go. "Come on, move it. We're going back to the caravan."

"Gotchu," Aranea drawls as Iris pushes her back to the direction they came from. Luna slows down to match Noctis' pace, and there's a small smile on her face as she watches him.

"Can't wait to see him?" she asks. "By the looks of it, this meeting will be the real deal now." Noctis purses his lips for a moment before sighing, looking down at the thick album in his hands.

"It's been long overdue," he admits.

\--

Noctis is the first to use the caravan to change clothes, simply because he's the Crown Prince and sharing the caravan with three girls to dry is awkward as hell, but he makes quick work through the drying process and is already stepping out of the caravan in no time, in fresh clothes and the album in his hand. With Umbra at his heels, he sits in one of the plastic chairs nestled nicely outside the caravan as the girls shuffle inside. The dining area is dry; the tarpaulin above the table and chairs is large and sturdy enough to keep the strong rain at bay.

Luna gives Noctis a grin and a thumbs up before scurrying inside the caravan and locking the door behind her. Noctis stares at the door for a moment before shrugging and looking at the open book in front of him.

With a flick of his wrist, the polaroid camera appears in his hand in a flash of blue, and he holds the camera up, immediately focusing the lens on the chocobos in their pens.

Without a second thought, Noctis takes a picture of the chocobos, and he takes the printed polaroid immediately and sets it down on the table to dry.

It's kind of weird taking pictures of chocobos when, later, they'll plan out and mark their destinations to forge a covenant with a god, but Noctis had been meaning to send Prompto a photo since they took care of Deadeye. He _can't_ not send Prompto a photo of chocobos, even if it's the sad looking kind.

 _Waiting out the storm with my chocobo friends_ is what Noctis first thinks of writing on the polaroid's white space, then he frowns. Prompto is wishing him luck for the Fulgurian's trial. It's kind of a serious topic, isn't it?

Does it matter, though? Prompto isn't really one to get too absorbed in serious stuff. Something to lighten up the mood would be a nice reply. Or maybe Noctis is overthinking this, too worked up over Prompto's short message. There's not even a photo attached, but Noct can't really blame Prompto after what happened to Insomnia. Noctis...didn't even know he'd be in Insomnia until it was too late. Did Prompto lose his camera in the middle of the chaos? Did he even _bring_ his camera? Is he hurt? Sustained an injury? Did he...Did he see King Regis?

"You okay?" says a voice beside Noct, and he flinches in surprise, almost dropping his camera. Luna giggles at him, and he frowns at her.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"Sorry." Luna pulls a chair beside Noctis and sits down, looking at the open book then at the photo laid on the table. Compared to Noctis, who's only wearing his spare white shirt and cargo pants and sneakers, she's readily bundled up for the weather: high collared black jacket zipped all the way up, black jeans and boots. Huh. "You're writing a response for Prompto," Luna says, still looking at the book. "Or, at least, thinking of a response." She smiles again, humour in her eyes, and Noctis grumbles at her. "Sorry," she says again, "it was just funny how you were scowling a while ago, like you're eating something bitter. Do you need help?"

"No," is Noctis' quick answer. Luna rolls her eyes.

"Right, because we all definitely had’t had a part in some of your letters to Prompto before." She taps a finger against the open book. "We have our own letters to him in here, too, you know."

Noctis grunts. "I know that. But this one's for me, and I intend to reply, myself. It's just..." He frowns at the photo he just took. It's clear now, and the chocobos can be seen despite the rain. "It's not ruining the mood to talk about chocobos, right?"

Luna raises her eyebrows at him, and she bursts out laughing. Noctis' protests are drowned out by her laughter. "Noctis!" she says in between laughs. "Noctis, I know you're overthinking this again." Noctis makes a face at her. "Come now, does it matter? So long as it's sincere, it's nothing to worry about. Besides, Prompto does love chocobos. I'm sure he'll be delighted to see a photo of them and to know the birds are doing fine despite the weather." She pauses, and then, "do you think he's renting chocobos now that the renting service is back up again?"

"Definitely," Noctis replies, and after a pause, he takes the polaroid. He sticks the photo onto the same page, just below Prompto's message, and he takes out a red pen and uncaps it, the tip pointed on the white space of the polaroid.

So long as it's sincere, it's nothing to worry about.

 _waiting out the storm with my chocobo friends_ , he writes. _i received the blessing, prom, thank you._

"Hey, nerds," Aranea calls out, swinging the door open and peeking at the pair outside the caravan. "Get inside. Let's talk business so we can head out tomorrow."

\--

The plan is simple: go chasing storms, get Ramuh's blessing, and wait for Prompto. Or Cindy's call. Whichever comes first. It's not much of a plan to begin with, but it's something to keep in mind, regardless.

Noctis is tucking the album on Umbra's back, all the while listening to the conversation in the caravan. Night has fallen, and as expected, rain continues to fall. By the looks of it, the storm will continue to rage on until Ramuh's trial is passed.

"Do we have enough potions and elixirs for the trip tomorrow?" Noctis hears Aranea ask, and there's an echo of _yeah_ throughout the caravan, Iris and Luna answering together. Aranea snorts. "Alright. There's nothing else to discuss, I guess. I'm _loathe_ to say this, children, but we have to go to sleep early so we can head out quickly tomorrow. The faster we finish this, the better."

"Well," Iris says, and she's already climbing into the bed and taking the space beside the wall. "I'd love to sleep already. The storm would be such a nice white noise to fall asleep to."

Lightning flashes above the Chocobo Post, and an ear-shattering thunder follows, making everyone in the caravan jump. Iris' smile falls.

"Never mind."

"Pretty boy," Aranea calls out, and Noctis looks up from Umbra. He's squatting by the doorway, running his hand through Umbra's fur, and Aranea raises a brow at him. "Go to sleep already. I _swear_ if you don't wake up on time tomorrow, we're leaving you."

"You're going to need me for your mission," Noctis dryly replies. He gives Umbra one last pet, then he's standing up and putting his hand over the doorknob. "So," Noctis starts, and Umbra looks at him. "Tell Prompto to take care, okay? I-I'll be waiting for him. Doesn't matter how long."

"Sweet," Aranea says, and Iris swats at her. Noctis ignores them.

"Be careful out there, buddy."

He opens the door just slightly, and Umbra slips through the small gap. Noctis watches as Umbra disappears into the night, his dark fur melding into the shadow, and then he closes the door.

"Oh," Luna says as she walks out of the shower, holding her toothbrush. She looks sad. "Umbra left already?"

"Yeah," Noctis replies, and then there's something ringing on the top bed. Aranea looks up, her hand reaching onto the bed, and she pulls out Noctis' phone from the sheets. She glances at the screen, and her eyebrows raise.

"Marshall Gentiana."

"Put her on loudspeaker," Noctis immediately orders, and everyone huddles together as Aranea answers the call and puts the phone on the lower bed.

" _Your Highness_."

"Marshall," Noctis replies, crossing his arms. "Any news about my dad?"

" _Yes, but it is not much. I am warning you that what I have learnt is not dependable at best. My sincerest apologies_."

The four friends exchange glances, and Noctis frowns. "Tell me anyway."

" _Very well. Your father may be alive_."

Noctis stops, his arms falling to his sides as his eyes widen. He looks up at his friends, and they all look just as surprised as he thinks he is, but in their eyes is something that he is absolutely sure is something that immediately blossomed in his chest the moment he hears the words.

Hope.

"What more do you know?" Noctis asks.

Static fills the caravan for a second, and then, " _there was an anonymous tip left in the Prairie Outpost. A paper left by someone. No one had seen anyone suspicious come to the outpost. It's...a message, but not written by your father, I assure you. The handwriting is unfamiliar_."

"So?" Noctis says, and when he feels Luna's hand over his arm, he realises he's shaking. He takes a deep breath. "What does it say?"

"' _The King is well._ '"

Silence floods into the caravan, the rain and the crackle of static filling in the holes of silence. Luna tightens her hold on his arm, Iris puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and he glances at them briefly before looking back at the phone. "That's all?"

" _That is all_."

"Dammit!"

"Hey," Aranea cuts in, and she picks up Noct's phone before looking at him. "Sit down, Noctis. Iris, get him something to drink. I'll handle this." She turns off the loudspeaker, pressing the phone against her ear as she makes her way out of the caravan. "Marshall? It's Highwind..."

Luna sits with Noctis, putting an arm over his shoulders as he buries his face into his hands. The King is well? What is _that_ supposed to mean? That he's fine but in the hands of Niflheim? That he's fine but Noctis may never see him again?

He feels something cold against his arm, and blearily looking at it, he finds that Iris is pressing a bottle of potion, recently purchased and still untouched by magic, against his arm. He wordlessly takes it and opens it, and Iris flops heavily into the bed.

"Whoever left that is an _asshole_ ," she seethes. "Leaving something like that...!"

Luna shrugs, but she keeps her hold on Noctis firm. "I'd like to hope for the best," she softly says. "After all, leaving a note like that will spark hope in the loyalists, no matter how suspicious." She gently shakes Noctis once before letting him go. "It will be fine, Noctis. We'll find King Regis soon."

Noctis nods once, raising his head to look at the door where Aranea disappeared to. He's still holding the potion, but eventually, he puts the cap back on it and returns the bottle to Iris.

Noctis goes to sleep, taking the top bed, and like the weather, his dreams are stormy and unstable, but he also dreams of going through it with a firm hand holding his own.

 _I'm here_ , Prompto tells him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- How Does One Write Noctis
> 
> \- the only difference with the stuff that went down on noct's side in this au is that instead of the marshall confirming regis' death, all gentiana says is that king regis is missing and that it's too early to assume he had died. gentiana is busy looking for regis instead.
> 
> \- everyone but iris keeps their original ages! luna is still 24, aranea is still 30, but iris is 26. what's gladio's age, you ask? well, he's (truck honking sounds)! ignis keeps his age as well.  
> \- so that basically means noctis is the party's baby, and he's the only guy, too!! he's like everyone's baby brother, so obviously he gets the brunt of all the jokes regardless of him being the crown prince lol
> 
> \- one chapter to go :-)


	9. reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they spend hours like that: huddled close, foreheads pressed together, and relishing in the warmth of their magic and of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU'LL NEVER SEE IT COMINGGGGGGGGGGG
> 
> YOU'LL SEE THAT MY MIND IS TOO FAST FOR EYES
> 
> YOU'RE DONE INNNNNNNNNNNNN
> 
> BY THE TIME IT'S HIT YOU, YOUR LAST SURPRISE
> 
> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It's not supposed to go like this.

The operation to take the Regalia back is supposed to go the way Aranea planned: quiet and stealthy, with as few Imperial casualties as possible to avoid suspicion. They thought the Regalia is going to be transported back to Niflheim, but _clearly_ , that isn't the case. What use would a car be to a technologically-advanced nation?

Because they're all so desperate to get the car back, no one stopped and thought that _maybe_ the Regalia is bait and they're eagerly walking into a trap.

Noctis spins the dagger in his hand, readjusts his grip, as he quickly scans his surroundings. There's a huge mech ahead of them, guarding the magitek generator powering the entire base. That thing needs to be destroyed _immediately_ , but it's reinforced by a chain link fence, with practically an entire team of MTs surrounding it, and they can plow through that, shitty mech included, if it weren't for the fact there's also what seems to be an entire _army_ of MTs and mechs surrounding them. This is honestly overkill---four people against waves upon waves of MTs and soldiers and giant fucking robots. Then again, Noctis has two gods on his side, and neither of them are being particularly _very fucking helpful right now_.

"We have to get Noctis to the magitek generator," Aranea says behind him. "With that shit running, there's no way we'll get out of here alive."

"Hah, _great_ ," Iris says, her shield out and digging into the ground. It's taller than her, about Noct's height, but she heaves that thing like it weighs nothing. "With a number this big, it's impossible to get all of their attention from him."

"Did any of the two Astrals decide to grace us with their presence yet?" Luna asks, and she warily eyes the MTs in front of her, hand gripping her gun. Noctis grunts.

"N---"

" _Isn't it horrifying?_ " A voice echoes throughout the open area, crackling with static, and it takes Noctis a moment to realise it's coming from the largest mech. " _Surrounded, with no hope of survival. If you surrender now, we'll be a lot more, ah, merciful with your execution_."

Noctis rolls his eyes. "I'm getting really tired of this shit."

"Oh, that’s great," Luna says, and Noctis eyes the flask of lightning magic that appears with a faint flicker of blue in her free hand, obscured from the enemies' view. "Me, too. Let's go to town."

Noctis follows her example, then Iris, then Aranea.

"Thundaga?" Iris says. Aranea snorts behind Noctis.

"Hell _yes_."

In one swift, synchronised motion, the four throw their flasks of magic, then the deep growls of thunder ring in their ears, and a thunderstorm of destruction surrounds them. It's enough to scatter their enemies, and Aranea shoves Noctis ahead and points at where the magitek generator should be amidst the sudden chaos. The blade of her lance glints dangerously against the light.

"Get it, tiger!"

Noctis bolts, throwing his dagger and disappearing in a flash of bright blue, and he reappears in front of the nearest MT and digs his blade in the opening between its helmet and shoulder armour. He disappears again before another MT can get to swing its sword at him and reappears underneath the mech guarding the generator. He rolls to his feet to face the MTs guarding the generator, and he spreads his hand open as lightning leaves his fingertips, connecting from one MT to another, and he breaks into a run as the MTs shudder and collapse.

It'll be easy to get through the chain link fence surrounding the generator: all Noctis has to do is to warp over it, and---

" _Oh, no, you won't!_ "

The missiles don't directly hit him, thank the gods, but they hit the ground where he stands, and it's close enough that Noctis feels as if he stepped on a land mine as he flies to the ground and eats godsdamn dirt. Amidst the sounds of gunfire and magic, he thinks he hears Iris scream, Luna following suit. Noctis rolls to sit up and spits dirt out of his mouth. His pants and boots are smoking, his feet are in pain, and whatever kind of distraction the others are trying to do finally falls apart. In a short amount of time, Noctis is surrounded again, guns all pointed at him, the mech completely focused on him. Behind the mech, there are still sounds of fighting, and Noct knows no one's gonna come to his rescue anytime soon. Fuck.

He lifts his chin and stares at the MTs. There's no way he can fight them off injured like this. Maybe if they could at least give him a chance to pull out a potion...

An MT shoots at his arm when he tries to summon a potion, and he yelps when the bullet grazes him. The mech laughs, the pilot, anyway, and Noctis snarls at them.

" _How does it feel to be on your knees, Prince of Lucis? Humiliating, no?_ "

"I'm on my _ass_."

" _It wouldn't matter when you're dead!_ "

Noctis grips his dagger tightly when the mech’s weapons point at him, ready to warp as soon as the enemy attacks, when he feels the wind graze his cheek. He wouldn’t notice it, not normally, anyway, but the wind that blows is _unnaturally_ cold, and in just a second, the air Noctis exhales is visible. Then after that is snow gently falling, a stark contrast to the harsh fighting in the base. Even his enemies are startled by this, and looking up, completely astonished, Noctis watches as unfamiliar figures hover high above the air, encircling them.

Then, Noctis realises, those figures are the ones _creating_ the unnatural cold.

As soon as he realises that, ice starts to form at the mech's feet as well as the MTs surrounding Noctis, the sounds of crackling ice overtaking the sounds of battle.

Could that be---

" _What?!_ " says the mech, and it attempts to move to halt the formation of ice around its body, but then something sputters and smoke fuzzes out of the mech. Ice already formed inside of it and is wrecking its circuits. " _How could this be possible?_ " A crackle of static cuts through, and then a gasp, muffled by the static. " _The generator! How dare you trick us---!_ "

Making use of the distraction, Noctis quickly heals his injuries with a potion and scrambles to his feet, ignoring the crunches of ice on the ground as he moves, and he blinks when he finds that the machine he intended to destroy is _already_ destroyed. Smoke is already puttering out of the machine, all red lights that once flickered on it also dead. A scrawny young man emerges from behind the generator, grease and oil staining what could've been immaculate white clothes once. The young man's dirty blond hair is a wild mess, but he grins at Noctis, blue eyes wide and bright, his freckles prominent under the sun, and---

Noctis makes a sound that's between a choke and a cough as Prompto jumps down the platform that holds the generator and lands with the trident supporting him, and he kicks the gate to the generator open. The padlock falls to the ground next to a destroyed MT beside the gate. This is---how did he---

 _I'll come find you_ , is the last thing Prompto had written Noctis. _I promise._

"Hey!" Prompto says. He waves his trident in greeting, and Noctis sees that his hands and the trident itself are covered in grease and oil. "Thought you guys wanna take a step back and _chill_ out. Pretty _cool_ place, isn't it?" He _laughs_ , and Noctis feels his chest grow tight with emotion he currently doesn't have the luxury to make sense of, but he knows it's something good, something he'll never get enough of. " _Ice_ to see you!"

Instead of the pilot's voice, deafening static echoes throughout the battlefield itself, and it’s a proof of its slowly failing mechanisms. The mech's lower body is already encased in ice, and it won't be long until it joins the others that have become blocks of ice.

Prompto joins Noct's side, and he's warm, and there's soot on the bridge of his nose as he gives Noctis a sideway glance and a smirk. Behind the mech, in a distance, Noctis can make out his retinue already approaching the mech, ready for the killing blow.

"How 'bout let's not wait for Shiva to kill the mech off?" Prompto suggests.

"I got a spell ready," Noctis replies, and he brings out the flask with the lightning magic. Prompto looks at it with interest. Noctis grins. "Watch this."

Noctis throws the flask at the mech, and lightning shatters the mech with blinding light, the buzzing of electricity ringing in their ears and raising the hairs on their skin. Thunder rumbles.

When the small thunderstorm subsides, all that's left is the thick pile of snow that blankets the entire base and the blocks of ice that were once their enemies. There's nothing in the silence but the quiet howls of the cold wind, and when Noctis looks up, he sees the lone Glacian looking at him in the air, snow dancing about him. His icy gaze flits from Prompto then to Noctis, and without a word, his form crumbles to be one with the snow.

"Was that the _Glacian_?" Noctis asks, disbelief in his tone. Prompto's grin is wide.

"Yeah," he says, "wasn't that _brrrr_ eathtaking?"

Noctis barks out a laugh, bright and lighthearted, and reaches a hand towards Prompto. He meets Noct's hand halfway, and their fingers lace together.

It's cold, snow continuously falls around them, and Prompto's hand is warm.

Their rings shine against the soft light of the rising run.

"I finally found you," Prompto mutters, and Noctis' lips tremble.

"Yeah," he says, and he leans forward and presses their foreheads together, relishing in the warmth and overwhelming relief coursing through him. "I've been waiting."

\--

" _At long last, the Imperial blockades of Duscaean roadways have been removed. The Imperial army has also demolished all related facilities erected around the region. The provisional government of Insomnia anticipates increased traffic congestion along most local highways and encourages all citizens to refrain from any unnecessary travel for the time being._ "

"Well, there's that," Aranea lazily says, and she tucks her hair behind her ear as the Regalia speeds down the highway en route to Lestallum. Prompto sits between Noctis and Iris in the back while Luna sits in the passenger seat. She doesn't even bother asking for permission before changing the station, and the announcer's voice is cut off by music, instead.

Aranea frowns. " _Hey_."

"What?"

"What are your plans after this?" Prompto cuts in, and Luna looks at him through the rearview mirror while Aranea looks back at the road. "I mean, you guys have a plan after taking back the Regalia, right?"

Iris shrugs, her gaze focused on her phone. She looks worried. "Well, when we set out to see Titan, the plan after was to return to Lestallum then head to Cape Caem, because our original end goal was to get to Altissia, you know, to see you. But then stuff happened. And you're with us now." She looks up at Aranea. "We're still going to Lestallum, right? I need to know if Gladdy's still there."

Gladdy? Prompto looks at Iris, brows raised. He doesn't think he's read that name in Iris' letters to him. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but Iris actually has the least number of letters to him, and Aranea's number of letters isn't much far off. "Gladdy...let me guess, Gladiolus?"

"Yeah," she says, followed with a sigh. "I've been trying to contact him since we lost the Regalia. I'm getting worried."

"We're still going to Lestallum," Aranea says. "We're sticking to our original plan. Even if Prompto's with us, we still need to go to Altissia, anyway. He already cemented that idea before we left the base."

Iris sighs again, but this time, she sounds more relieved as she slumps her shoulders. "Okay, that's great. I hope he's okay, though. I could really use some replies from him." She blinks away what Prompto thinks might be tears. Iris sniffs, and then she frowns. "Eugh. Prompto, you smell _gross_."

"That is _not_ my fault," Prompto immediately says. He's on the defensive, and he scoots away from her until his knee is hitting against Noct's, who's fast asleep. "I've been very busy!"

"When was the last time you bathed?" Luna asks, and Prompto can see her smile on the rearview mirror.

"I don't remember," is his quick answer, and Iris and Luna exchange glances. "Like I said, I've been...very busy."

"Must've been awful," Iris says. "You know, we didn't even know you were in Insomnia until the news of its falling came through. If Noct had known..."

"He'll definitely insist on staying," Luna finishes, "I know it must have been a trial, Prompto, but I'm sure Noctis has a lot to ask you, and maybe if he's not snoring his way to Lestallum, he would've asked by now."

Prompto looks at Noctis, and he finds that Noctis has his head leaning back against his seat's headrest, mouth open, and he snorts back a laugh.

"Even with me here, he still falls asleep," he says, "I feel hurt."

"Yeah, he's a dick like that," Aranea says, and he smiles at her direction.

"That's fine," Prompto says, "he has a death grip on my clothes."

This time, it's the girls who snort.

"Once we get to Lestallum," Luna says, promise in her tone, "we'll get you a nice shower, and then all of us will have a long, nice talk."

"That's a good idea," Prompto says, and their talk dies down there, the silence filled in by the music from the radio.

Prompto is pretty sure he has a good idea on what Noctis' questions may be. He no longer wears the Ring of the Lucii, the strain of wearing it proving too much for him, and instead he slipped it onto the string of Ravus' locket that's kept hidden under his clothes. Prompto knows he has to confess everything he knows and to leave nothing in secret. It's what he vowed to himself---and to Cor, all those years ago, when there's only nothing but the promise of ruin for him and the Chosen King.

At least, when Noctis knows, he has a choice. Prompto never had that luxury to begin with.

_"You're going to tell him?" Cor asks, voice thick with incredulousness, as he watches Prompto pick up the pieces of the broken glass he had thrown against the wall. It's probably the worst thing he's done, Prompto thinks, but at least he's in his room, and none of the servants are around to see him like this._

_Can anyone imagine? The sweet, dutiful Oracle, renouncing the duty the Astrals had given him on his ascension and throwing the worst godsdamn tantrum known to man. Prompto purses his lips, and he stands to throw the large pieces he picked up into the trashcan._

_"Yeah."_

_"What, you're going to write it to him? Don't be ridiculous."_

_Prompto sighs and fetches the broom and dustpan he requested to sweep the remaining pieces. "I didn't say anything about writing to him." Cor stares at him. "I intend to tell him myself."_

_"Because of Niflheim's activities, the Scourge is advancing faster than it should," Cor says, "you're not---"_

_"I know," Prompto says, and his breathing is laboured, his grip on the broom tight. "I know," he says again, and he swallows. "But even then, I'll give him a choice. I'll give him the chance to choose, even if it's the last thing I do." There's a pause, then he faces Cor, dropping the broom and dustpan to the floor. Without any hesitation, Prompto drops on his knees and lowers his head until his forehead touches the floor, and Cor makes a sound that he can’t quite figure out and immediately sets to get him up._

_"Prompto---"_

_"Cor,_ please _," Prompto begs, eyes shut tightly to keep the tears threatening to spill, "help me_ save _Noctis."_

\--

Despite what Luna said, Prompto doesn't get his shower in Lestallum.

For some reason, the Regalia's tank isn't as full as Aranea believes it should be ("Fucking Niffs stole our gas!" she yelled, while everyone else pushed the Regalia), and it makes for a really good reason to stop at the nearest Coernix Station to fill up gas. Luna and Iris have gone to check out supplies in the store while Aranea is left filling up the Regalia. Meanwhile, Noctis and Prompto rented the caravan to get Prompto the shower he desperately needs.

"Man, you rubbed your odour all over me," Noct says. "Now I need a shower, too." Prompto knows Noct is leaning against the door of the small bathroom the caravan has to offer, so in retaliation, Prompto bangs the door. He grins when he hears Noctis yelp.

"Not my fault you won't let me go," Prompto says, voice muffled by the running shower. "But I have to admit, I _am_ pretty gross." He cringes when he looks down and sees the colour of the water running to the drain. "The water going down the drain is yucky, like black-ish and green-ish or something, and I think there's a thriving ecosystem in my hair."

"T-M-fucking-I, Prom, you gross human being." Prompto laughs, and Noctis bangs the door. "Hurry up."

Prompto scrubs as much dirt as he can off himself, and he manages to empty an entire bottle of shampoo to clean his hair. It takes far longer than Noct tells him to, but he really can't bring himself to care, not when he feels so liberated from dirt when he steps out of the shower, and when he goes through the clothes Noctis gave him---white shirt and cargo pants---he smiles.

Prompto leaves the bathroom refreshed and in Noct's clean clothes, towel over his head. He half expected Noctis to fall into the bathroom when he opened the door, actually, but instead he finds Noctis sitting on the only bed the caravan has to offer, Prompto's dirty clothes in a pile beside him. He's holding Ravus' locket in his hands, staring at the Ring of the Lucii.

Prompto stops.

Noctis looks up at him, and he wants nothing more than to reach out to Noctis and smoothen out the creases on Noct's forehead, but instead he says, "I'll answer any of your questions, Noct."

For some reason, though, Noctis looks conflicted, and he looks down at the ring instead. Prompto blinks. "Noct..."

"Sorry, I just---" He takes a breath, takes a second to continue. "I don't know if I'm ready for it."

"You're expecting the worst news, aren't you?" It gets a reaction from Noctis, one that makes Prompto feel bad for saying it. He's withdrawn a little: arms around himself, shoulders hunched, and looking down. They both know it's a conversation they'll eventually have, though; Noct can't remain oblivious to his father's status, and Prompto obviously has the answers he is seeking, so Prompto walks to the bed and sits down next to Noctis. He counts until five, and then---

"You're beating yourself up over nothing, you doof."

Noctis looks up, and he frowns at Prompto. If Prompto has to be honest, this is a look he'd rather see on Noctis than the first one. "What?"

"You want to know if I know anything about King Regis, right? But you're worried I'd say something like, 'oh, yeah, he's dead.' Especially I have the ring." Prompto bumps his shoulder against Noct's, and he smiles. "Don't jump to conclusions. You're wrong, anyway. He's alive and well."

Noctis takes a moment to process it. He stares at Prompto for a beat too long before burying his face into his hands and breathing onto them, and Prompto can see how the tense lines in his shoulders slowly fade with every breath. When Noctis looks up, he runs a hand through his hair, and he heaves a heavy sigh.

"Gods," he says, his voice trembling. "I-I was...so scared that--- _gods_."

"Too much?" Prompto asks, and there's a small smile on his face as he leans forward to look at Noctis. He looks down at Prompto and nods. He's smiling, too; it's small and trembling at the edges, but it's there.

"Too much," he admits, uncurling his hand that holds the locket and the ring, and he slips the Ring of the Lucii from the string, holding it with his index finger and thumb.

"He's in hiding for now. I don't know where he is, exactly, but he's with men I can trust with my life." He pauses for a moment, watching as Noctis accepts it with a nod, his face finally relaxed. "He asked me to give it to you," Prompto continues as Noctis twists the ring in his fingers. "For you to wear. Maybe as the new...King." He looks at Noctis, then at the ring. "You know what the ring does."

Noctis nods. "I know."

"There's no Wall to maintain, Noct," Prompto says, and he puts a hand over Noct's arm, "you don't have to wear it just yet. Not until I tell you everything."

Noctis gives him a confused look. "Everything? Like...what happened to Insomnia?"

"Well, there's that," Prompto says, remembering his new ability to wield the same magic as Noctis does, "but I meant the---"

There's a bang on the front door, and they both look up as Luna swings the door open, her brows furrowed in a frown. "I'm truly sorry to interrupt," she says, "but Gladio finally called, and he has something important to tell. Aranea said that it's best that we be on our way now."

They find the Regalia's engine already running when they finally reach the car. Aranea is sitting in the back seat beside Iris this time, arms crossed, and Iris has her phone balanced on her thigh. Gladiolus, or Gladio, or Gladdy---why does he have so many nicknames?---is on the phone on loudspeaker.

"Gang's all here," Aranea says as she looks up at the three. "Sorry to say this, but can Prompto be on the passenger seat this time? Sit with us, Noct."

Prompto and Noct exchange looks before shrugging, and everyone gets into their designated seats soon enough. Prompto's strapping his seatbelt on when he hears Noctis say, "hey, Gladio."

" _Noctis?_ " Gladio says, voice muffled by static. " _Reception's shit at Caem, sorry._ "

"No problem," Noctis says, and Luna puts the Regalia on reverse and moves the car out of the parking space before finally taking off. "What's up?"

" _Don't go to Lestallum_ ," he says, " _head straight to Caem. Lestallum is bad news right now._ "

"Well, shit," Noctis flatly says, and Aranea slaps his hand. He takes back his hand with a frown at Aranea before returning his attention to Iris' phone. "What happened?"

" _Fucking Niffs. That's what happened_."

"Real helpful, Gladdy," Iris pipes in with a roll of her eyes.

" _I'm getting to it, sis_ ," Gladio says with a huff, " _Niffs are in Lestallum right now. We were on our way to Caem when it happened, though, thankfully. From what I gathered, they're looking for you. I think they got intel about us being there, but they're too late._ "

Prompto, arms crossed and leaning on the door, snorts out a laugh. "Good thing I already took a shower in the station, huh?"

" _Was that the_ Oracle _?_ " Gladio asks. " _Holy shit. I thought Aranea's fucking with me like always when she said he's there with you guys._ "

"I can hear you, you little shit," Aranea says, and Prompto laughs.

"Hey, Gladio!" he chirps in. "Just call me Prompto. Last time Iris mentioned you in her letters to me, she said she's upset that you're way taller than her despite being six years younger."

"Shut up!" Iris says when Gladio laughs. "Anyway, is there anything else?"

" _Okay, well, Cindy and Cid are here with us_ ," Gladio says, " _they're checking out the boat. Looks like there's a problem._ "

Luna sighs, one hand on the wheel as the other reaches behind her neck to fish out her hair from inside her vest. "When isn't there a problem?"

" _Ditto_ ," Gladio replies.

Noctis only looks as if there's a fly in the car with them, though, if the roof is over, anyway. "So what is it?"

" _I actually have no idea, sorry. They insist on meeting you guys, though, so you better head here fast_."

"We'll be there in two days, I think," Luna says, and Aranea breathes out a laugh.

"One, if it's _me_ driving," she says with a smirk. Luna sends her a dirty look through the rearview mirror. "Tell Cid we'll be there tomorrow by sundown."

" _Gotcha. We'll see you soon. Take care, guys_."

"You, too, Gladdy!" Iris says, and they end the call there. Iris locks her phone and pockets it with a sigh. "I'm so glad he called. I was so worried! What a jerk."

"Better than not calling, anyway," Aranea says. "Well, Lestallum's outta the window. We still have to spend tonight somewhere, though. Caravan or camp. Depends."

Prompto looks up, putting a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. It's afternoon, and they can still cover a lot of ground before settling down for the day. Though there are a lot of things to discuss, Prompto thinks there's no need to rush. He likes this, if he has to be honest--just here in a roadtrip with his friends. It feels strange, suddenly having anyone around for friends, and he thinks how everyone but Noct treats him like he's not someone whom they've only known through letters and photos. All of this feels strange, but not unwelcome, and maybe it's the isolation getting to him.

It's true that Prompto's used to only having attendees; this new arrangement is slowly but surely proving to be a bit too overwhelming for him.

So he closes his eyes and sinks into his seat, letting the wind blow through his hair.

"Well, let's see where the car takes us," he says.

\--

They end up camping, in the end.

Everyone is still having dinner when Noctis goes and tells everyone about King Regis. Prompto then elaborates on it, and he tells everyone about the two Glaives that he's sure are with King Regis right now: Nyx and Libertus.

"They're in hiding," Prompto says. "I'm not sure where, though. I mentioned Galahd to Nyx. It's his hometown, but I don't think they're there, considering, you know." He shrugs. "Niflheim."

"Well, it's an Imperial territory now," Noctis says, picking his dinner apart and getting rid of the vegetables. Prompto is amazed he still hasn't outgrown that awful habit of his. "I'm...still worried," he admits, "dad doesn't answer my calls, but that's probably because he lost his phone during the attack. If you say those two can be trusted, well, I trust you."

"I'm in on that," Aranea says. Luna and Iris voice their agreement, and they move on to their next topic, which is, well, Prompto wearing the ring.

To say that Noctis is shocked is an understatement.

"You _wore_ the ring?" Noctis says in a voice that is a pitch higher than normal, and Prompto doesn't need to have known him for a decade to know that, yeah, he's a little pissed. "Prompto, why the hell would you do such a---"

"It's to save King Regis!" Prompto cuts off, and he would've noticed the three girls exchanging glances if he weren't so busy telepathically telling Noctis to _calm down_. "If I didn't, he would've _died_."

Noctis deflates at this, and he grimly nods, sinking into his chair. "You wore it knowing the consequences," he mutters.

"I was desperate."

"What did they ask in exchange?" Noctis asks.

Prompto stops at this, and he recalls standing in an empty chamber, the kings and queens of Lucis looking down at him and their voices echoing in his mind.

_You, too, will bear the burden of the kings._

"Nothing too different," he says with a smile, and Noct stares at him. "It wouldn't really change anything, to say the least."

Noctis opens his mouth to say something, but seems to think better of it and closes his mouth, and he picks up a stick to poke at the fire.

It's silent for a few minutes. A little awkward, if he’s honest with himself.

"Maybe it's time to call it a night," Aranea says, cutting through the silence. She stands and stretches, putting her hands on her hips and bending slightly backwards. "Early day tomorrow, children. Go get some sleep." She walks to the girls' tent, and she turns to them and gives a wave as she says, "night."

She disappears inside the tent. Luna and Iris look at each other, then at Noct and Prompto, and Luna follows Aranea's example.

"Well, let's all go to bed. Aranea's right," she says as she stands up. Iris follows, too. "Go get some sleep, Noct, Prompto. Especially you, Noct. Aranea will get mad if you're pissy tomorrow."

"He's always pissy regardless," Iris says with a smile, and Noctis rolls his eyes and flings a couple of ashes at them with his stick.

"Go to sleep," he barks at them, and Iris and Luna giggle as they shuffle into their tent.

Then it's just him and Prompto left.

"…How's your magic?" Noctis asks Prompto after a few seconds of more silence, and he blinks at Noctis.

"Um," he says, "decent? Okay? It's like feeling for the light switch in the dark, and then when I found the light switch, the lights keep flickering on and off."

It gets a laugh out of Noctis, and just like that, the suffocating silence between them dissipates. He stands from his chair, gesturing at Prompto to follow him, and they both sit at the edge of the haven with their feet knocking together now and then.

"Won't the daemons come and try to chew our feet off?" Prompto asks, and he eyes the daemons in the distance. He thinks he can see an Iron Giant and a couple goblins there. Noctis shrugs.

"We can kick their ass if they try to," Noct answers. "They'll make good practise targets, too, if you want," he adds, and Prompto looks at him. "Do you...want me to teach you how to use it?"

"Yes," Prompto answers immediately, too eagerly, and Noctis smirks at him. "Don't look at me like _that_. It was awful trying to warp back when I was fighting for my life back in Insomnia. A lesson or two won't hurt."

"I guess that's true," he says, looking at the distance. It's silent again for a few seconds, and Prompto has a feeling that something like this will be occurring more often than not. He realises, then, that this is wholly different from filling an entire page of letters and photos. "...I'm glad the ring managed to save you and dad, despite...everything, I guess."

He studies Noctis, and, slowly but surely, Prompto's learning that Noctis has become far more complex than he first let on in his letters. He doesn't know all of Noctis just yet; he only knows of the Noctis from the letters, the one he's fallen in love with, but he knows, for sure: he'll fall for Noctis still, all over again, and this time, he can do it without distance between them.

Prompto smiles, small and unnoticeable, and he knocks his foot against Noctis. "It's not going to do to me the same thing it did to your dad," Prompto assures him, "if that's you're worried about."

Noctis closes his eyes and nods, and he leans closer to Prompto. "I know," he says. "I'm glad." They sit together like that in silence, watching the eerie lights of the daemons in the distance, and it's good. This. The whole lot of possibilities in front of them.

"So," Noctis quietly says after a few minutes, his head resting on Prompto's shoulder, "about that lesson."

Prompto chuckles. "We're starting now? I thought Aranea and Luna said we should crash early."

"They always say that," Noct says, "but they actually don't care."

"If they kick my ass tomorrow," Prompto says, "I'm kicking _your_ ass."

Noctis smirks. "Fair enough. Now, ever tried setting your hands on fire?" Prompto gives him a flat look, and Noctis laughs. "Don't give me that look, Prom." He sits straighter, and he turns to face Prompto, taking his hands in his and flipping his hands so Prompto’s palms face up. "C'mon, I bet all you’ve done is make fiery explosions. Ever thought of controlling them so they _don’t_ explode on your face?"

They spend hours like that: huddled close, foreheads pressed together, and relishing in the warmth of their magic and of each other, their quiet laughter mixing with the silence of the night.

It's something that, ten years ago, Prompto wouldn't even dare to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- i extended to another chapter bc i'm a piece of shit.  
> \- who would've thought that their reunion would be in the FIRST PART OF THE CHAPTER?!?! not me. i originally wanted to do the cliche "they get reunited at the end. the end" bullshit, but hey, plans change when you're me. a lot of past me's plans were inevitably ruined by present me bc i'm a piece of shit.  
> \- i started persona 5 and i'm weeping bc yusuke kitagawa is beautiful and i'll spread myself across the counter in a pancake suit covered in maple syrup for goro akechi.  
> \- feel free to find me on twitter @clearestrod!! :3c
> 
> as usual, this au is by chocobaes on tumblr! check them out pleesums.


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